The Return
by mat528
Summary: An Alternate Universe story, featuring human 10, Rose, and not one, but two villains!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a plot bunny that found a home in my mind recently. It is hardly original, I know…but here is my take on what is probably a popular theme amongst fans, I'm pretty sure. This is not related to any of my other Alternate Universe stories. This features the human Doctor as seen in "Journey's End" and Rose Tyler. The usual disclaimers apply here.**

THE RETURN

CHAPTER ONE

The Doctor watched the last of the flames die out on the funeral pyre as the Master's body was consumed. He turned away sadly, unable to deal with the overwhelming feeling of loss that overtook him. After nearly a millennium of chasing and defeating his best friend and greatest enemy, he cried as he realized it was all over. He also forced himself to come to grips with the fact that he was, again, the Last Time Lord. He turned and headed for the TARDIS, wishing that Koschei would return just once more. As he left, he thought of a human saying: "Be careful what you wish for." The Doctor shook his head, wondering why he'd come to think of that just now, but shook off his mental rambling.

XXXXXXXXX

(Rose's Tyler's current Universe, 2008)

Rose stared out a window at the rain soaked London streets in her Torchwood office. Today had been a quiet day; for once, there were no alien menaces to fight, no politicians to argue with, and no scientific curiosities to ponder over.

She hated days like this. They forced her mind to wander to thoughts of the first 10th Doctor who had left her. Rose wondered what he was up to. Was he in the same body as when they'd parted? Was he with another companion? If it was a female companion, would she make the Time Lord forget her entirely? Rose didn't think that was possible, given that he had done for her two of the most wonderful things he could have done: he had left her with the makings of a TARDIS, and he had left her himself, (well, she amended, a part of himself).

_Life's good, _Rose mentally reasoned, her happiness at an all time high. She thought about the man with whom she was falling more and more in love.

Her third Doctor was vastly different from the other two she had been with. Oh, he looked like the second Doctor she had been with, but his personality was like the Doctor as she'd first known him in his Ninth incarnation. He was also different in that he was more human, with only one heart and with signs of aging, as he'd demonstrated this morning by plucking out a single, grey hair. But he was also like the alien Doctors she had known, too: his memories showed no sign of abating as they often could in completely human people, and his intelligence knew no bounds. That was why she had decided early on to make a permanent life with him. Rose had wanted to live with him, but he had suggested they wait however; that they try and see if they liked each other. So, as it was, they decided to date but stay in separate homes for the time being.

Pete Tyler, Rose's adoptive father, had given them both carte blanches in terms of salary at Torchwood, where the human Doctor was one of the premier Scientific Advisors. "Some things never change," her third Doctor had told her when he had explained that he had been U.N.I.T.'s Scientific Advisor on her old Earth so many lives before. Pete had him working almost exclusively with Rose, a Defender of the Earth, and her adoptive father had even offered to pay outright for their homes, but Rose was adamant: she would purchase a place on her own, mortgage and all. The human Doctor felt the same.

During the almost year they had been together, the human Time Lord had taken on a new name, learned to perform and even appreciate domestic skills on some level, and do many of the ordinary things human males did. Although his thoughts could sometimes have an otherworldly bent, and although he could be more impatient than the Original Tenth Doctor that she had first loved, the fact that she could talk to him about the times they had shared in a TARDIS without his being judgmental was a salve to her.

XXXXXXXXX

The stranger went to the main Torchwood building, hoping to still find her there. He walked to the elevators and went to room 3106B with anxiety in his short, red haired frame. Opening the door, the man saw a receptionist still there. She was typing information into a computer and talking to her friend at the same time. The man waited patiently for her to finish.

"Yeah, yeah…we'll meet a Lindey's straight away…" she was saying into her phone. The dirty blonde haired girl wasn't looking up at him as she typed the codes for shutting down into the database.

"Well, I've just gotta close up shop here, and I'll see you then. Love you, too….Bye." She made kissing sounds into the phone. The man's eyes looked at her with something like longing in them. He wished he could be carefree and in love like she was. The receptionist gasped as she beheld the man in front of her. He was a portly, with a dark green shirt and black trousers. His eyes were emerald, and looked as though they had seen too many sad things in life. His hairline was slightly receding, and was neatly trimmed back from a round face. Very defined brows, an aquiline nose, and laugh lines around a serious mouth completed the picture. He had gold, wire rimmed frames perched on his nose and reminded her somewhat of a melancholy Leprechaun.

"May I be of assistance?" she asked all business now.

The man spoke with the slight hint of an Irish accent as she told her, "Yes. I'm looking for Rose Tyler. I understand she works on this floor."

"Oh, yes, she does, but she's gone for the day, I'm afraid," the receptionist said. She took out a notepad and a pen from her desk, saying, "But I can take a message an' give it to her in the morning, if you'd like."

The man kept the urgent tone out of his voice, saying, "I realize I shouldn't be asking, but it is really important that I find her. Do you know, perchance, where she might be this evening?"

The receptionist replied smoothly, "I'm sorry. Can't give out that information." She looked back at the man, and into his green eyes. They looked so sad, so…she couldn't find the right word, but she felt sorry for him. She looked at a Blackberry, pulling up the schedules of Torchwood employees until she reached Rose's itinerary. The Blackberrys were given to the support staff just in case of an emergency, and they were also used when computers were off line. The receptionist hoped that the man wasn't going to hit Rose with some crisis or something. She decided she was over dramatizing and looked at the electronic notepad.

"Promise you won't give me away?" she said, winking at him. The man smiled, shaking his head.

"She's on her way home. 2011 Chapel Street," she told him. He processed the information, thanking her.

"Please don't mention it," she said, waving him away and thinking about meeting her beau.

XXXXXXXXXXX

In Rose's townhouse, the human Doctor, now known as Daniel William Piper to everyone, puttered about in the kitchen while he waited for Rose. Daniel could hardly wait to surprise her with the question they'd both been waiting for for a long time. He bounced into the kitchen, his boyish grin growing by leaps and bounds. Everything was going according to plan: he had ordered the rings at the jewelry store and they were on their way, his Shepherd's Pie was cooking in the oven and Rose would come in, tired and hungry. They would dine, they would hug and kiss (oh, how he loved her kissing—how his other self lived without that on a daily basis when they had been traveling together he would never know), and in a week's time (or so the jeweler had promised,) he would ask his question to which she would agree wholeheartedly and all would be right with his world. Daniel was checking on his culinary masterpiece when the phone rang. He reached inside his pocket for the cell phone only to realize that it was the land line phone that had rang.

"Bollocks!" he swore as the distraction caused him to burn his finger. He yanked the receiver off the cradle, snapping, "Hewwooo…?" as he sucked on his injured forefinger.

"Hello," a soft voice with a hint of an Irish lilt came over the phone.

Daniel said, "Hello. Who is this?"

The man on the other end paused before saying, "I'm a friend of Rose Tyler's and of Torchwood's. I was hoping she would be here."

"No, afraid not," Daniel replied. "May I take a message?"

"No, I'll call back, thanks," the voice replied. He hung up the phone abruptly before Daniel could ask his name.

"Funny," Daniel muttered, but he returned to the task of making dinner. It was funny how, after a year, he had adapted so adroitly to human customs and traditions. He loved the Earthers because they were able to do that so easily. Of course, it was easier when you had someone to share your life with. Rose was his rock, his strength, his constant companion, and he prayed that would never change. Daniel still looked to the stars of course, hoping he'd spot his other alien self one day. He had been so angry at the First Tenth Doctor for abandoning him and Rose at first, but as the months passed, he realized that the Doctor had done them a tremendous favor. He knew from the memories he shared with his counterpart that as the days, hours and minutes passed, the alien Doctor was becoming more detached, more crazed, more…dark. If Rose had stayed with him, she might have become as he was turning out to be: a bitter, angry being with no mercy. He was more and more deserving of the title "the Oncoming Storm" than his human clone was and Rose didn't deserve to be with a being like that.

Still, there were times when he wondered if he measured up to her standards. In human terms, he was Vanilla ice cream to his alien counterpart's Chocolate. Rose had been very supportive as she showed him how to live as a human, and he knew he had delighted her by being a quick study, but in comparative terms, she was a young woman in her twenties, and he was outwardly a man in his late thirties, at least fourteen years her senior. He also knew that she missed traveling to other distant worlds at times and, although he'd tried to grow a TARDIS out of the part the First Tenth Doctor had left, it would take at least seven to ten years before the TARDIS would grow enough to be completely functional. The same questions raced in his mind whenever he slept: if his alien counterpart were to suddenly return, would she go off with him in search of a more exciting life, despite his personality flaws? Or would she find another human man who was more dynamic than he was and leave him to be with the other man? And, even if he somehow managed to duplicate a TARDIS, he knew that they could only observe happenings, not really participate in events in any great detail. He wondered: could she live with that, existing in a life where she might only watch things as they happened but never act on them?

He now had an intimate knowledge of how it was to be like the Time Lords had been: a watcher of life, as it went by, but never actually participating in it except in cases of extreme emergency. Although his circumstances forced him to blend in and he did it with a steely resolve to be the best human male the world had ever seen, he wondered, and he doubted. The smell of burnt dinner assailed his nostrils, ending his thoughts. Daniel cursed as Rose let herself in.

"Honey, I'm home!" she joked, then she ran into the kitchen as she smelled the burnt food.

Daniel put on the potholders, cut off the oven, and pulled out the pie. "Damn!" he swore, as Rose looked on.

"Doesn't look that bad," Rose said softly, smiling. "In fact, it reminds me of my mum's pies," she teased, trying to get Daniel to laugh.

Daniel turned hurt brown eyes on his girlfriend; Rose instantly knew she'd said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

"C'mon," Daniel said, "don't beat around the bush! Tell me what you really think."

Rose took the pie from him and really studied it. "I really think you burnt dinner," she said, adding, "it's a mistake. It happens. 'S the trying that's important."

"But I wanted this night to be, well," Daniel said, running his fingers in his hair in the familiar Tenth Doctor gesture she'd loved so much, "fantastic!"

Rose put the pie onto the counter, hugging him and whispering in his ear, "It _is _fantastic! I've got you, and dinner, a fantastic job, and a mortgage that doesn't quit! I couldn't be happier!"

"Really?" Daniel asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Really," Rose confirmed, sealing the deal in a passionate kiss. Daniel let the kiss wash away his anxieties, at least for the moment. Rose took the pie from the counter and put it on the dining room table. Together, they set the table and prepared to have dinner.

XXXXXXXXX

The man who had been hoping to meet with Rose wondered if he should call her at home or confront her directly. He also wondered if U.N.I.T. or Torchwood should be alerted. No, he decided, best to not get too many into the mix. There would be too many complications as it was if he didn't succeed in what he had to do. His thoughts shifted to Rose. She looked even better than she had the last time they'd parted. His green eyes held a twinge of regret. They hadn't parted with the best of circumstances, and a part of him would always regret that. But things oftentimes happened for the best, and he trusted that old adage more now than he had when he was a younger man. He finally reached the conclusion that subtlety was what was called for here. Of course, he was very bad at subtlety, but he had to try. He reached into his pocket, taking out a disc like object. Punching in some digits, the man waited for Rose's house phone to ring.

XXXXXXXXXX

Rose gazed at the slumbering form of the human Doctor as he slept on the couch. She still couldn't get used to his sleeping longer than an hour a week, nor could she get used to his snoring. The young woman allowed a small smile to touch her lips as she saw his boyish face looking peaceful and content. A stray hair flopped over his face. Rose tucked it back. Daniel shifted but did not stir. She was preparing to leave when her phone rang loudly.

"Mmmm…Rhy'ana?" Daniel muttered, using the Gallifreyan equivalent of her name. He started to rise as the phone rang again, but Rose quietly pushed him down.

"It's okay, just my phone," she assured him. Daniel nodded, going back to sleep. As he turned on his side, Rose went into the bedroom.

"Hello?" she asked into the bedroom phone.

"Miss Tyler? Miss Rose Tyler?" an Irish sounding voice said into the phone.

"Yes, who is it?" Rose asked.

The man paused, still a little indecisive before responding. "This is Liam Sullivan," the man said, adding, "I'm a friend from another branch of Torchwood."

"I'm off duty," Rose replied, looking back toward where Daniel slept, "unless of course it's an emergency."

"It is rather important. Can you meet me sometime later tonight?" the man asked. Rose observed that he wasn't one for small talk.

"Maybe," she answered. "What's this all about?"

"Just meet me," the man responded, hanging up. After hanging up, Rose went back into the living room when she spied Daniel standing in front of the couch and facing her.

"Who was that?" he wanted to know.

"Jus' someone at work," Rose told him. They sat on the couch together.

"What did he want? Did he need both of us to see him?" Daniel asked.

"No, no he didn't," Rose answered. Daniel frowned. Usually, they handled things dealing with work and the safety of the world in general together. Why didn't this man want him to be with Rose? Daniel shook off his fear, telling himself that maybe this wasn't a crisis, and maybe, even if it was, it wasn't something that warranted a Scientific Advisor's know how.

"Did he say what his name was?" Daniel asked, his curiosity brimming.

"Liam Sullivan," Rose answered, repeating what the stranger had told her about being from another office.

"Doesn't sound like anyone from any of the science departments I know," Daniel commented. "Still, I suppose he could be from an overseas office."

Rose wrapped her arms around Daniel and hugged him, saying, "Well, maybe he works with Torchwood's Irish office. Said he needed to meet me tonight."

Daniel went to the closet, taking out a wool sweater and saying, "Where you go, I go."

Rose grabbed the sweater from her beloved, saying, "I can handle this by myself. You know how these informants are, if in fact he is one. He probably won't tell both of us anything, but if he sees me by my lonesome, he'll be more forthcoming."

When Daniel pouted, Rose stroked his arm, saying, "I'll meet him, and then tomorrow, I'll cook breakfast for us, okay? You can stay in the guest room if you want tonight or…" her eyes took on a seductive look, "we can spend the night together."

"I want our first time to be absolutely perfect," the human Time Lord said, feeling uneasy about this meeting Rose was about to go on, but not exactly knowing why. When Rose stared at him, Daniel said, "I'll see you in the morning, okay?" They shared a brief kiss and then he left the living room.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

XXXXXXXX

Rose blew on her fingers in her car at Torchwood headquarters. She had tried to use the heater, but it was on the blink again, and Daniel hadn't had the time to tinker with it. The young woman was quite distressed at having to leave him, but she knew how particular human or alien contacts could sometimes be about coming alone to a meeting. She didn't get outside of the car, preferring to wait instead for Mr. Sullivan, particularly since her watch now revealed that it was eleven-thirty at night. Rose was glad at times like this that her boyfriend was more human than Time Lord; at least he couldn't sense her leaving, and she could sneak out of her house without him knowing it.

She immediately chastised herself for thinking that way. Daniel was her life, and her soul mate. He always looked after her, just as she protected him, and she'd never gone anywhere important without him, even if a potential informant told her to "come alone". Rose didn't even know why she was doing what she was doing exactly, but the man's voice on her phone sounded so compelling, so….She couldn't even find the right words. The young woman glanced around all of a sudden to see if the owner of the voice had a blue box with bigger insides parked somewhere.

_Stop thinking that way, _she thought. _The Doctor and Donna said that this Universe would be closed off forever, so stop thinking that this stranger is the Doctor, or that he's even remotely __**connected **__to him!_

Rose's cell phone rang at that moment. She opened it, saying, "Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Tyler," Sullivan's Irish brogue came over the line. "So glad you made it."

Rose told him, "I need to get back before I'm missed."

"Sure thing," the man said. "I'll be at the back entrance. Just don't let any of the night crew see you."

"Why?" Rose wanted to know, her curiosity rising.

"The less that know of my presence here, the better," Sullivan said. Rose hung up the cell phone, and got out of her car proceeding to the back entrance. So intent was she on meeting the mysterious caller that she didn't see Daniel's Alpine pull up. He got out of the car and followed her at a discrete distance. As he rounded a corner she had turned, Daniel felt his palms sweat as though something significant were going to happen, something that was not good.

_Rose can take care of herself, _he thought. _After all, I taught her Venusian defense techniques, or rather, the __**Doctor **__did, so she'll be all right. I'm just worrying for nothing._

He saw Rose meeting with a man whose face was somewhat in shadow. Daniel could only make out ginger colored hair. He pulled out his cell phone and turned a button on the phone, grateful that he had installed the picture enhancement features that he had developed in Torchwood's science lab only the week before. He turned up the sound, boosting it as the man spoke to Rose.

"Now, Mr. Sullivan," Daniel muttered, "let's see and hear what your game is."

Not aware that she was being watched, Rose asked, "I want some answers. Why did you want to meet me at this late hour? Why did you ask me to come alone, without Daniel? Does your not wanting him to come have to do with some dire prediction about his future, is that it?"

"As a matter of fact, it does, Miss Tyler," Sullivan replied calmly. "I'm here to give you a warning. You will be presented with a choice in the near future."

"What choice is that?" Rose pressed, but Sullivan shook his head.

"I can't go into more details about it, but you will know which choice I am speaking of when the time comes," Sullivan said cryptically.

Rose's eyebrows twitched with frustration. "'S this one of those 'catastrophic futuristic events' things that will hinge on my decision?"

"Something like that," Sullivan responded. Just then, Daniel lost the audio. He cursed in Old High Gallifreyan as the the pair continued talking. Daniel took out a pair of tools and started working on the cell phone's audio system.

Meanwhile, Rose stared at Sullivan, asking him point blank, "Are you the Doctor? If you are, how did you make it back here without collapsing both Universes?"

"I am not the Doctor," Sullivan replied, "but I know him well."

"He gave you this message?" Rose queried. Sullivan didn't flinch. He merely stared at her with his sad, green eyes, becoming more obscured by the darkness as he withdrew.

"Whatever happens, just say 'no' when the time comes," he said. He continued walking away. Rose tried to follow.

"Wait!" She cried, holding up a hand as she took off after him. "I must know more! How do you know the Doctor? Did he give you this message?"

When she could not find him after ten minutes of running and scanning the night, she went back to her car. Daniel, who had run after her, went back to his car and took off after she did, taking a different path to her house to beat her home.

After she had driven off, Sullivan's eyes followed her every movement. Had the young woman peered into them more closely, she would have seen that the sadness that was there before was replaced by a smoldering rage.

XXXXXX

Rose went into her townhouse quietly, musing over all that the mysterious Mr. Sullivan had said. She wondered what he meant by a choice and just how exactly did it affect the future? The defender of the Earth opened the door to see if Daniel had gone to bed. She found him awake just then, absent mindedly flipping through channels.

"You would think something would be on about now!" he commented as he surfed through endless parades of infomercials on the telly. "Now Kryminapupulana Seven: there was a world! 10, 963 channels, and none of them the same!"

He fixed Rose with a boyish grin as he continued: "Broadcast transmissions from many other planets, they did! Had a soap opera I never missed, called 'Test of Truth'! Crimey, it was amazing, an' they always solved their drama situations in half the time!" Daniel continued flipping through channels, not looking at Rose, his face containing a non chalant expression.

"What are you doing up?" Rose asked.

Daniel finally settled on a woman who was demonstrating the latest fitness contraption. It was shaped like a pretzel, and she was bending and doing aerobics in it.

"Couldn't sleep," Daniel told her. Rose sat on the bed beside him.

"Bad dreams?" she asked. Daniel shook his head 'no'. He let her stroke his back and neck. Her touch made him relax, just as it always did.

"What did Sullivan want?" Daniel queried, turning off the telly and letting his deep, brown eyes bore into hers. When she didn't answer, Daniel said, "I mean, it was awfully late for you two to meet. Was what he had to say the garden variety type of emergency where there are terrorists out to blow up something, or was it the type of emergency where aliens could destroy all of time?"

"I can't tell you," Rose replied.

"Why?" the human Doctor wanted to know.

"I just…can't…" Rose murmured, biting her lower lip. She wanted to repeat Sullivan's full message to her, but if what the man had said had anything to do with her and Daniel, to say nothing of the future of Earth, she had to do what the man had told her to the letter.

"Because it might affect my future, or yours, or someone equally important?" Daniel finished. When Rose nodded, he pulled her close in a comforting hug.

"I won't press you," Daniel whispered as they pulled apart. She nestled her head into his chest, breathing in perfect rhythm to his single heartbeat. He kissed the top of her head, saying, "Come what may, we will face it together. Whatever happens I will never leave you." Rose took comfort in that, and after Daniel turned on the telly, they watched a sitcom.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Daniel poured over the expansive data files in his computer the next day, searching for any information on the mysterious Mr. Liam Sullivan. He wished at times like these that he had the heightened sensitivity of a full Time Lord. At least then, he would know conclusively if the Irish stranger was either just an informant, a later version of the Doctor, or some other alien menace in disguise.

_Listen to me, _he thought, _I'm pronouncing him guilty before I've proven him innocent. _He wondered if the fundamental reason he was suspicious of Sullivan had less to do with him being a possible alien usurper and more with him hanging around Rose. The man had not invited the human Time Lord to go with her for some reason. Was he intending to take Rose away, or expose Daniel?

Daniel and Rose had had others interfering in their life together before. Pete Tyler and Jackie Tyler had accepted them, but there were tabloid reporters and glory hounds who, besides getting a good story about Earth's female defender, were determined to expose the mystery behind Rose's new boyfriend ever since they had started dating. The human Time Lord always held the fear in the back of his mind that someone might research his past and find out about his Gallifreyan legacy. If that happened, humankind would never leave either of them alone. For that reason, he had carefully concealed that part of himself, painstakingly creating a new identity, and revealing his secrets to only very few individuals: Rose and her family, of course, and that universe's Jack Harkness, who was a Commander for that Earth's U.N.I.T.

In the universe they lived in, Jack was still a pilot with an eye for feminine (and sometimes male) companionship, but he was not the Time Agent the Doctor and Rose remembered, nor had he been a con man. He also didn't work with a team at Torchwood, like his other universe counterpart did. Unlike the old Jack Harkness, who was virtually immortal, this Jack came ever closer to being killed permanently on a daily basis. When Daniel and Rose had first met Jack, the trio had stopped this universe's Sea Devils from taking over the Earth's oceans.

In his effort to save the human Doctor and Rose, Jack had almost paid with his life. To this end, Daniel vowed to help Jack whenever possible, inventing a sophisticated weapons proof vest for him that could be rendered invisible so that the Commander would not be questioned to reveal where he had gotten such a shield. Jack, in turn, kept Daniel's secret intact, and even fended off the press whenever U.N.I.T. or Torchwood needed interference.

When his computer at Torchwood failed to provide any information on the mysterious stranger Liam Sullivan, the human Time Lord dialed the private number to Jack's office.

"Commander Jack Harkness speaking," Jack's baritone greeted.

"Hello, Jack," Daniel greeted back.

"Daniel!" Jack replied happily. "How's it going?"

"Okay," Daniel responded as he picked up the specs on his desk and chewed on them.

"Come on, Danny boy," Jack joked, "I know that voice. It's pensive expression time, isn't it? You have a new scientific mystery and you need U.N.I.T.'s more sophisticated equipment am I right?"

"Well, although I am helping upgrade Torchwood it _is _slow going," Daniel admitted, wishing he could unleash the full potential of his intelligence on its science lab, but realizing the danger in providing too much technology too soon to the people of Earth.

"What can I do for you?" Jack questioned, leaning back in his chair, and selecting a cigar, which he lit and smoked with reckless abandon.

"I need you to research a man who saw Rose yesterday," Daniel instructed. "His name is Liam Sullivan, and I can't seem to get any description of him from the database at Torchwood."

"Do you have a picture?" Jack asked, switching on his computer.

Daniel transmitted the pictures he'd taken, to which Jack replied, "Got it. I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Thanks. I owe you one," Daniel said, hanging up.

Jack continued smoking, then as he extinguished the last of his cigar, he punched some codes into the database. A knock sounded at the door. Jack opened it to admit Liam Sullivan.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Sullivan," he said.

"Hello again, Commander," Liam replied, leaning over to get a look at Jack's computer. When he couldn't see what Jack was working on, the Irish stranger asked, "what are you doing?"

"My friend Daniel asked me for information about you," Jack told him. "Seems he is concerned about your meeting with his girlfriend."

Sullivan raised a brow, saying, "Oh? Well, you needn't concern yourself about that. I can provide all the information he would need." He took out a disc and handed it to Jack.

"Give your friend this," Sullivan said. "It will explain everything."

Jack accepted it gratefully and shut off his computer. When they said good bye to each other, Sullivan walked took an elevator nearby, exiting at the basement. The "sad leprechaun" took a long, more scenic route to his next destination, a small smile crossing his lips. He rejoiced with the confirmation that, after months of careful planning, things were coming to pass just like he prescribed.

XXXXXXXX

Daniel turned the corner and entered the Science lab, his white coat on the closet ignored.

"None of that, mister," a female voice, which sounded similar to Rose's, told him. "You know the rules: 'protective gear is to be worn when working in the lab at all times.'"

He sighed, grabbing it and putting it on, but not before muttering, "This constitutes as 'protective gear?'"

Mock-saluting his fellow coworker, a black female in her mid-twenties, Daniel went to work on a variation of his weapons-proof vest.

"So, how did it go last night?" she asked, a speculative gleam in her eye.

Daniel gave her a mournful look as he said, "Didn't make it to first base. Burned dinner, she had an appointment, an' there were infomercials on the telly instead of good romantic movies."

The darker skinned woman's eyes were sympathetic as she said, "That's too bad. But look at the bright side!"

Daniel shot her a look, saying, "If there _is _a bright side, I'd certainly love to hear it, Martha."

"Well, you two are still together. It isn't as though she showed you the door, or anything, right? And, don't forget, you told me so yourself: it would take a week to get the actual rings, right?" She asked.

"Yep," Daniel told her without the exuberance he usually felt.

"So, consider last night the dress rehearsal," Martha said. "Are you seeing her tonight?"

Daniel nodded, muttering, "Yeah, she's cooking this time."

"So, you'll turn on the heater so that the house will be nice and warm and cozy…" Martha was saying.

"Can't," Daniel said dejectedly, "heater's on the blink, in both her car and in her townhouse. Haven't had time to fix them."

Martha was on a roll as she went on: "She'll prepare a fabulous dinner, and you'll both drink wine and eat steaks…"

"Actually, Rose doesn't drink wine, neither do I, really, an' we're trying to cut back on red meat…" Daniel supplied.

Martha stared at him, instructing, "_Work _with me, here. You love her, right?"

Daniel smiled, saying, "My life didn't begin until her…"

"And she loves you, right?" Martha was asking. Daniel hesitated at that one. He knew Rose cared for him, but come to think of it, Daniel had never heard her actually say that she loved him. Realizing that his fellow scientist was waiting for an answer however, he bobbed his head up and down enthusiastically.

"Then why are you bothered?" she wanted to know. "Just take one day at a time, like I did with my fiancé, Bill, and you'll both be fine!"

Daniel smiled at Martha, and as she turned back to her experiment, he marveled at how similar, yet different, universal counterparts of people could be. He recalled how Rickey had been in comparison to Mickey, all military minded, yet looking virtually the same. Martha was the same way. She looked exactly like the one he—no, the Doctor--had traveled with, but where the other Martha Jones was slightly more serious, this one was more upbeat, more optimistic. The other Jones was a doctor who worked for U.N.I.T.; this one was a scientist who worked with him at Torchwood.

Dr. Jones was engaged to another man who did work in Africa; this Martha liked the hustle and bustle of London, thank you very much, and was engaged to, of all things, a chef and caterer.

"Now, repeat after me: everything will turn out fine…everything will turn out fine…" Martha was saying, waving her hand in a circular motion until Daniel repeated her movements.

"'Everything will turn out fine…everything will turn out fine…" Daniel chanted. After a moment, he asked, "But what if it doesn't?"

Martha put her hands on her hips, saying, "That's what your problem is! You have to _believe _that everything will be okay, that no matter what happens, life wouldn't give you more than you can handle."

_Try telling that to the Doctor, _Daniel thought, wondering when his sire's remembrances would ever leave his thoughts so that the human Doctor could forge a life of his own. He envied Martha her naiveté. He wished he could be that way himself, but with the Doctor's memories of so many things gone wrong coursing through his mind, he knew that life didn't always work that way. Sometimes things were too much to bear, and with the Doctor constantly denying that fact, the agonies of life were wreaking havoc on his sire emotionally and spiritually.

_Stop! _His more optimistic mind ordered. _**His **__lives may be filled with sadness, but yours doesn't have to be!_

"You're right, Martha," Daniel responded. "I guess I'm nervous, and I have cold feet."

"Everybody has that," Martha assured him, "I did. But everyone here knows that Rose is _the one! _You two were meant to be together! You were meant to make your ever after!"

Daniel leaned over and kissed her cheek, whispering, "Thanks, partner. I really appreciate that."

"Anytime," Martha rejoined. She bent over a series of beakers and said, "Now, let's see what trouble we can get into."

XXXXXXXXX

(Somewhere in the Northern part of England…)

Donna Noble stretched her arms as she got out from under her luxurious satin sheets that morning. She put on her Shantal robe, a designer original, and walked over to her enormous window on the west side of La Boehme, her mother's favorite mansion. The titian haired woman drew back the curtains to see the many servants her mother employed, engrossed in their daily tasks of gardening, pruning, tending to the swimming pool, and other various things. Donna wished she could have a purpose like them.

She had known a privileged life ever since birth, like a Princess in a castle, but like a Princess trapped in a castle, the young woman felt cut off and detached from the rest of the world. Donna longed to feel what the other half felt, to be part of the _real_ world, to have to struggle to put food on the table, to fall in love, or at least have a friend she could talk to and live adventures with. She shook off her fantasies. This was her life, and she was lucky to have one with all the treasures human kind said were the most valuable: money, status, intelligence, attractiveness (or at least a slight attractiveness), and yet she'd trade it all away for what she truly craved: a purpose.

Donna came downstairs to the breakfast table, her hair stringy from tossing and turning, circles under her eyes from lack of sleeping. Before she could pull her chair out, her butler pushed it back from the table for her to sit down. Another servant poured orange juice, freshly squeezed, into a Waterford crystal glass. A third servant started to shake out the napkin by her plate and put it into her lap. Donna snatched it out from the servant's hand.

"_Oi! _Do you mind?" she angrily snapped. The servant scurried to her place behind Donna. At the head of the table, Donna's mother and father eyed their daughter with a look that said that they thought she was a nutter.

"Donna, sweetheart, is anything wrong?" her father said loudly so that his voice carried to the other end of the huge table.

"Nothing, dad," she answered, and then, as her father gave her a censuring look, she said, "I mean, father."

Donna's father, Robert Noble, ate his fruit carefully and methodically, just as he did every morning, peering at his daughter. Beside him, his wife, Sylvia Noble, leaned over to whisper to him, her many times hairsprayed over bouffant in place, "do you think she's sick?"

"No," Robert told his wife, "I just think she's going through one of those identity crisis things."

"In _our _family?" Sylvia asked, incredulously. She shot a look at her daughter, but Donna had fled her seat, and was on her way down to their end of the table.

"Father, mother, I want to talk to you," she insisted.

"Do you wish something else for breakfast, miss?" one of the servants queried.

Donna waved her off, saying, "No!" To her parents, she requested, "Send them all away!" A look from her father sent the servants out of the dining room and behind the sliding mahogany door.

"What is it, sweetling?" Donna's father asked. "What has you so concerned?"

"THIS!!" Donna snapped, pacing back and forth. "This _museum _I'm trapped in! I feel like a porcelain doll, or a statue, or something! I don't do _anything_ for myself! I don't serve myself, I don't bathe myself! It's a wonder I was allowed to put on my robe this morning, and that my hair wasn't teased and sprayed before I came down to breakfast!"

Her father commented softly, "Yesss…someone was lax on the job, and they will be dealt with." Donna stopped pacing and faced her father.

"I don't _want _them to be dealt with, father!!" Donna was screaming at the top of her voice. She calmed down and said more softly, "I just want to do things for myself, take care of myself, get a real job, and have some semblance of a life."

"But you have a life, darling," her mother said. "You're the daughter of one of the top five richest men in the world!"

"That's no life!" Donna snarled. "That's an affliction!"

"Donna!" her father cried sternly. "How dare you say that! I used to work in an ordinary job before my computer businesses and investments took off, and believe me, it is highly overrated! Now that you've been blessed with everything life has to offer, you're ungrateful!"

Donna felt instantly guilty as she regarded her father. At sixty, Robert Noble was still a handsome man. His face had very few wrinkles, and his eyes danced with excitement and a lively intelligence. His frame had not the slightest trace of bulge on it, thanks to many hours of weight lifting, strength training and marathon running per day. His face was oval, like his daughter's, and his eyes were a sky blue. His hair was cut short in a perfect cut, and it had salt and pepper strands. He had a tan on his lean body from the tennis match he had played with Sylvia yesterday, and it was a perfect golden brown without the slightest hint of a sun burn. The eldest Noble's eyes met and held his daughter's, waiting for her response.

Sylvia held her breath; she hated these squabbles her only child and her husband got into and could feel a migraine coming on. Right on cue, a servant came out from behind the door and handed her a red pill to go with her daily assortment. Sylvia swallowed but didn't make a move to either comfort Donna or support her husband. As far as she was concerned, let the pair start World War Three, as long as she could numb their less-than-idyllic existence with pills and shopping with her endless bank accounts.

"I'm sorry, father," Donna finally told him. "You're right, of course. I should be more grateful for all that you've done for me."

Her father nodded, smiling the slightest grin of approval, since he didn't believe in huge outer displays of emotion. Donna demurely left her parents, but before she did, she informed them that she was going out for a walk after she washed and was dressed. Robert and Sylvia enjoyed their breakfast, paying their daughter little mind.

Several minutes later, as Donna walked by the swimming pool, she looked into the clear water, wishing she could be like the water, or maybe like a fish. At least they didn't have people telling them where to go or how to dress or what to wear (although she supposed that some waterways and fish were captured or controlled, but she didn't dwell on those who were). She was about to seek one of the servants to change from her dress slacks and blouse into a bathing suit when she spied a portly man out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh, it's _you,"_ she commented as she saw the portly man in the black shirt and green trousers by the pool. Glancing at his attire, she remarked, "Don't you get warm wearing that?"

"Hot and cold temperatures never bother me," he replied, the light Irish brogue a salve to Donna's low self-esteem.

The man studied her, saying, "You look upset."

"It's just that…I tried to tell my family that all I want is a purpose in life," Donna said as she sat down on a patio chair by the pool. "Is that so wrong?"

"Of course not," the man said emphatically. "Everyone needs a goal in life. It's what makes life worth living."

Donna looked at the sad man with the incredible green eyes, feeling a kinship with him. "I'm glad you agree," she said. "I just wish I could get my parents to see that."

The man reached out and tilted up her chin, saying, "They are not your concern. They don't really matter. Only your happiness does."

"You're right," Donna agreed, "you're absolutely right."

"And I have a purpose for you that will give you the ultimate happiness," the man told her. Donna smiled, her eyes shining with pure, unadulterated joy.

"Tell me," she entreated. He smiled as he shared what he wanted her to do.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

XXXXXXX

Sarah Jane Smith drove her battered up car that her aunt had loaned her the money to purchase to the office where she freelanced. _Spare me from these jobs! _The young beginning journalist thought. She wished that, just for once, she could stop writing articles on traveling and other fluff pieces and sink her teeth into some real, hard hitting news stories. Of course, when one didn't have money, one had to do whatever it took to survive. The raven haired woman drained the last of her coffee in the cup holder and ate the last bite of her Egg McMuffin. Sarah Jane stepped out of her automobile presently as she pulled up at an angle in front of the huge DC office building where, she hoped, she would gain a real job as a reporter. Checking to be sure that she was at the right office, she was met with some people bringing furniture out.

"Scuse me," she told one mover. He didn't pay her any attention as he carried his end of a sofa out. Sarah Jane adjusted her hat which was slightly askew and, taking out a compact from her purse, checked her makeup. Satisfied that everything was in place, she went to the office marked _The Washington DC Globe _at the end of the hall. Her hand shook a little as she took in a deep breath. She knew she had to impress the editor, Peter Marks, with her writing skills. Her keen skills of observation took in another mover carrying out some more furniture. Beyond the burly mover, a man sat at his desk, not looking like his usual thin and wiry self, but more gaunt, as if part of his soul left with the pieces of furniture the men carried out. Peter stacked some pieces of paper on his table and went to type something into his computer before he realized it was gone. It was then that he saw Sarah Jane.

"Smith," he said, looking at her with hollowed eyes. His Texas boom had become more like a whimper as he had said his greeting.

"Mr. Marks," Sarah Jane greeted back. Seeing the chair by the tiny window with ground in coffee stains being taken out gave her a sinking feeling in her stomach. She gasped as she saw the last of her finances crumble around her.

"No," she breathed, but Peter nodded with absolute certainty.

"Yes," he said, "sorry, kid. But you know the breaks in this business, especially in this town. Big wigs do their politicking and viola! Someone closes you down, just like that. I saw it coming, tried to deny it, and you got caught up in it."

Sarah Jane shook her head, saying in a hurt voice, "But I _needed _this chance! You told me that if I did do the fluff piece you called me about you'd also have a real story for me!"

"Well, like I said, 'thems the breaks'," Peter told her. He put a hand on her shoulder saying, "Don't worry about it! You're only in your twenties; you can bounce back. Me, I can't. Good thing I got other prospects in Texas, though."

"I don't suppose you'd consider taking me with you," Sarah almost pleaded, "though I like DC very much."

"Sorry, but I don't think you'd fit in as a manager of a gas station," Peter said. He thrust a brown fedora on his almost bald head and ushered Sarah Jane to the door. The young woman hid her tears as she walked outside to her beat up Toyota, but once she got into the automobile, she moaned, allowing herself a good cry.

How had she gotten into this mess? She wondered as she started the engine. At the tender age of twenty two almost five years ago, Sarah Jane had left her Aunt Lavinia, her only family, in merry old England to get her start in the United States and try her hand at securing the American Dream. She could have gotten a job, she supposed, right in London like her aunt had wanted her to, but there was something about becoming a political journalist for Washington that suited her palate. So, after majoring in journalism and politics, the go getting girl took the pounds she had been saving most of her life and set sail for the US.

She managed to secure the first part of her master plan: she had gotten an apartment, a small efficiency in Falls Church, and she had gotten a great deal on the decade old car (mostly because the dealer was eager to get 'that eye sore' as he'd called the automobile off his lot). Work wise, she supported herself by working freelance journalism jobs and teaching part time at a school for the blind. It wasn't a great start, she knew, but a lot of famous reporters had started out with a lot less. Through it all, her aunt had encouraged her, through phone calls, letters, emails, and even some financial support. Sarah had managed to write some travel articles for some major papers, like the _Post _and the _Times, _but they weren't hiring full time employees, particularly those with no experience they'd told her. So, she had thanked them and given them a business card, and oftentimes went to her flat and stared into the computer screen, thinking up the next story that could turn things around. She was about to return home to Croyden with her tail between her legs when the inevitable happened: her car's engine conked out.

"C'mon…c'mon," she muttered, hoping that she could coax the engine into submission. After several moments, she gave up trying to restart the car. She was about to get out and take the Metrobus when she noticed a man with ginger colored hair and some of the most intense eyes she had ever seen in front of her windshield. Thankful that at least her power window had been rolled down before her car had given out, Sarah regarded the man.

"Excuse me, I think my battery's dead," she told him. "Might you be able to jump start it?"

The man smiled, though the grin did not reach his eyes. "Perhaps," he responded. "I'll see what I have." He proceeded to walk back a few feet so that she couldn't see him pull two cables out of his expansive pockets. The little man returned, telling her to pop open her hood. Sarah Jane did so, overjoyed that someone could assist her.

After tinkering with her engine, the man said, "You don't really need jumper cables. The ones I have will do." She heard the rattling of metal as the stranger worked on her car.

"Do you need any help?" Sarah Jane asked after several moments.

The man pulled back from the hood, snapped it closed, then shook his head, saying, "try it now."

Sarah Jane switched on her ignition. The engine purred like a kitten. She leaned out of her front window and said, "Thanks so much, Mr…?"

"Liam Sullivan, at your service," the man answered. "And you are?"

"Sarah Jane Smith," she replied, wondering why she had broken one of her cardinal rules about introducing herself to strangers. For some reason, the little man inspired warmth and complete trust. She pulled herself back inside, checking her rear view mirror and her gear to see that it was in 'park'. Sullivan studied her with an appraising look that she failed to notice. Sarah Jane popped her head back out her window.

"I was wondering: do you need a lift?" she offered, still wondering what it was about this man that had her eager to help him.

"Why, yes," Sullivan said, adding, "I'm not going far, so I hope it won't be too much trouble to drop me off."

"Get in," Sarah Jane responded, opening the back door on the curb side. Sullivan got in, studying the interior of the vehicle. The carpet had some grease spots on it despite its having been vacuumed, and the faded, navy seats needed upholstering. He saw that her dashboard was several years out of date, and had only a cassette player with the radio on it with archaic writing.

"Forgive the heat, but I wasn't able to get air conditioning," she said apologetically as she pulled off.

"Quite all right, Miss Smith," he said. Starting a conversation, the stranger asked, "Live on your own?"

"Yes, I do," she responded, querying, "and do you?"

"For now. I am here from Ireland," Sullivan responded.

"I gathered that from your accent," Sarah commented. "You're from the Northern part of Ireland, aren't you?"

"Very good," Sullivan praised. "Not many people can spot that. To them, I'm just Irish."

Sarah Jane laughed, feeling so comfortable driving him. "Well, I get a lot of that, too, from Americans who don't know England," she replied. "To them I'm 'that British girl'". They both chucked just then, as Sarah realized she had not asked him where he was going.

"Where to?" she questioned.

"Wherever you're going," Sullivan answered. "I can take a Metrobus the rest of the way."

"Nonsense," the raven haired journalist declared. "I'll take you home."

"That's very civil of you, Miss Smith," he said, smiling. After he gave her the address, Sullivan asked, "I don't mean to pry, but it seems that you're having tough times, am I right?"

Sarah nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. Sullivan said, a sympathetic tone in his voice, "By all means, do bend my ear."

The young woman found herself unveiling her life story to the sad leprechaun, revealing even her most guarded feelings. Sullivan "hmmed" throughout Sarah Jane's tale of woe, and when she'd finished, he offered, "Maybe I could help you. I am very influential in certain circles. I could, maybe, put the word out that you're looking for a more permanent position as a journalist." When she stopped at a red light, Sarah scrutinized her passenger. His face revealed no secrets, however. He just looked at her with a tranquil expression.

"What's in it for you?" she asked.

"Really, Miss Smith!" Sullivan cried. "I'm highly insulted! Can't one person offer to help another person in obvious trouble without it costing anything?"

Sarah Jane tried again, saying, "I appreciate it—really, I do—but I don't want to be owing anything to you."

"Consider this a chance for both of us," Sullivan explained. "You see, I am trying to start a paper of my own, and I need a great writer to help me. In exchange, you would gain the experience you so desperately need, and I would gain what I want."

"And what's that, Mr. Sullivan?" Sarah asked, turning left.

"Why, a chance to help mankind. I believe in making a difference in the world, _for _the world," Sullivan told her. Sarah mulled over his offer. She still didn't know why she was agreeing on a handshake to help the little stranger, but she found herself capitulating to his request. Sarah Jane pulled up in front of a non descript apartment building. The budding journalist parked and let him out. He handed his card to her through the window, and she drove off, humming to herself and thanking her lucky stars for her good fortune.

Sullivan's look grew cold as he watched her drive away, and his mood changed from sunny to stormy. _Humans! _He mentally criticized, calculating his next move.

XXXXXXXXX

Rose and Daniel sat on some hard, tiny chairs at her favorite fish and chips restaurant. Daniel picked at his food, not really concentrating on his chips. Rose looked at him, and then when she couldn't stand his picking any longer, asked her boyfriend what the matter was.

"Sorry…" Daniel apologized. "So, how's work been so far?"

"Mind numbingly, coma inducingly borin'," Rose replied. Her cell phone rang, and as the message center picked up, Rose glanced at the number displayed. "Mum," she said.

"It isn't enough for her to bother us when she's here, now she's gotta haunt us from out of town?" the human Doctor muttered.

"Oi!" Rose yelled. "That's my _mum _you're talking about!"

"And what a frightful ghost she'd make," Daniel rejoined, to which Rose snorted in reply.

"There's just no talking to you sometimes!" Rose quipped, returning to her food. After eating another bite of fish, she dialed Jackie's number.

"Mum!" Rose greeted. As she heard her brother's squeals in the background, Rose said, "How's Tony, and how's Sheepshead Beach?"

In the bungalow Peter Tyler had rented in Sheepshead Beach, Jackie Tyler winced as she felt the effects of a sunburn. "It's great if you like bein' a tomato!" She complained, to which her husband replied, "Well, you were the one who wanted to lie out in the sun all day!"

"Shut up, you, our daughter's on the phone," Jackie whispered to Pete. She handed Anthony to her husband's waiting arms. As he took the baby out of the room, Jackie returned back to her conversation.

"How are things, sweetheart?" Jackie wanted to know. "How's Dan?"

"He's fine, mum," Rose answered, to which Daniel murmured, "how's the old sea hag, anyway?"

"Stop," Rose mouthed back as she covered the phone's mouthpiece. When Daniel ate a chip, the young woman said, "Did you try putting some ointment on it?"

"Not yet," Jackie said. Daniel tugged on Rose's sleeve. Rose said, "Hang on, mum…" she put the phone down, but not before they heard Jackie's remark, "Is he bein' a pest again?"

"That's _your_ department," Daniel said softly, but not before Jackie heard him.

"Takes one to know one, I'd say!" She bit back. Daniel fell silent once more, his expressive brown eyes looking up at Rose with curiosity.

"Mum's got a sunburn," Rose whispered. She picked up the phone once again, as the half-human Gallifreyan said, "You see? It isn't just me! Even the sun can't stand your mum an' it has an axe to grind."

"Uh, look, mum, I'll call you later. Something's come up," Rose said to Jackie. "Just put some ointment on it an' lie down, and you'll be fine."

"Yeah, well, when Mr. Appendage leaves, maybe you'll be free to talk," Rose's mother told her. Daniel practically lunged across the table for the phone as though he could reach through it to strangle Jackie. Rose held the phone back with one hand, and tried to shove the human Time Lord back in his seat with the other. Daniel sat back down. Rose told her mother good bye and hung up the phone.

"She _knows _I hate it when she calls me that," Daniel grumbled.

"You started it!" Rose complained, to which Daniel muttered, "No, the universe started it when it designated her to be your _mother!_"

"You're gonna have to deal with it, you know, especially once we get married," Rose commented as she waved the waiter over for their check. Daniel started letting his mind wrap around what she'd just said: _once we get married. _He could hardly keep from taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless as she paid the check and they left the restaurant.


	5. Chapter 5

THE RETURN

CHAPTER FIVE

XXXXXXXXXX

After he and Rose parted company Daniel returned to work. Martha handed him a manila envelope with his name on it. The human Doctor looked at the envelope, asking his coworker, "Should I be afraid it's got some alien technology that will blow us up if I open it?"

Martha gave him a playful swat, teasing, "You! You know they screen any packages coming in. Besides, it's from Commander Jack. He said you wanted it."

Daniel took the envelope from Martha. "Thanks," he told her, not opening it until she left the room after telling her coworker that she would be back in an hour.

The half Gallifreyan put the disc into the drive and waited for any information he could get. He saw videos of Liam Sullivan, nondescript images of the man as a child, graduating High School, and receiving a degree in psychology at the University of Dublin. As he looked at the seemingly ordinary pictures, Daniel wondered if he was wrong about Sullivan.

_Why can't I get past this? _The cloned Time Lord wondered. _Why can't I trust him?_

He looked at some more images of Sullivan and found himself reaching out to his sire. He felt the Doctor should know about the informant. Daniel frowned as the door to his creator had somehow been closed. He wondered if the Doctor had deliberately cut off his contact with his cloned self, or if the door between their thought link had been closed by an outsider. Both possibilities worried the half alien Scientific Advisor greatly. Before he could analyze his anxieties, one of his fellow scientists ran into the lab he and Martha shared.

"Daniel! Meeting with some of the brass in room one right now!" he shouted, running toward the elevator.

"What about Martha? She isn't here!" Daniel shouted back, grabbing his lab coat and following his coworker.

"She'll be briefed later, as will the Senior Director Tyler. He's flying back from holiday early given this development, management said," his fellow scientist reported.

"Sounds big!" Daniel commented. Moments later, the two coworkers and the other five scientists were on the elevator and headed toward the top floors in the Torchwood building.

On the top floor, Daniel and the other scientists waited in the Board room for the Directors to arrive. The newly created Time Lord hated being called off of his investigations to meet with the top brass. He wondered how Rose dealt with it on a daily basis. If it were left up to him, he would live adventure after adventure on Earth, using his inventions with her in secret, defending the planet he now called home, without having to answer to any higher ups. It wasn't like most of them knew what they were doing, anyway. The exception was Pete, of course, and Rose, but Pete was not there yet, and Rose was only one person in a sea of Directors, twelve in all.

His girlfriend walked in, looking all business-like in her smart suit. Although Rose was not a petite woman, she looked small in comparison to the other Board Members. Daniel saw that in addition to Rose, only three of the "almighty twelve" as his fellow scientists liked to call them gathered around the big oak table in the boardroom.

The Board members sat closer to the head of the table, with all seven scientists sans Martha taking up both sides and the rear. Daniel was on the left side of the table near where Rose sat. He looked at her briefly, but her hands were clasped together, and her face was in deep thought mode.

"Thanks for coming," one of the senior Directors said in a genuinely warm tone. He didn't look as though there were a catastrophic emergency. Of course, with his practiced bureaucratic rhetoric, one could never tell.

"I realize this meeting was called at short notice, but it is necessary. The Prime Minister has sanctioned us to call the meeting at this time," he continued.

"What has this got to do with the Scientific workers here, sir?" one of the older workers asked, voicing Daniel's thoughts exactly.

"Something is going on in the United States with Torchwood over there, something far reaching," another senior Director, this one an Indian female, told the Scientists.

"Is it dealing with aliens, or is this more home spun?" one scientist, also female, asked.

"It is a natural seeming phenomenon," Rose spoke up, "but some technology leaked to us points to a possible other-worldly source."

Daniel's ears perked up at that. "What is it?" he queried.

"We all know about Global Warming in the Arctic regions," she began. "But this one has a new twist. Apparently, one of the Alaskan glaciers has receded four times faster than is normally possible. The local scientists in the area studied the findings, and then they contacted our American charter, and some of Americas' U.N.I.T. scientists. Now, the good news is that this glacier is one of the smallest ones to begin with. The damage to the Alaskan coast is minimal, at least in terms of any human or animal populations in that area being affected. In fact, the United States government is calling it a freak of nature. But in terms of the readings our scientists and that of U.N.I.T. studied at our labs there, the results are quite different."

"What is happening?" Daniel pressed.

"The earliest indications point to a temporal disturbance," another Board Member said, taking up the slack. "The data we received confirm that someone unleashed a small chronological bomb as it were in that area, causing that glacier to age significantly faster."

The other scientists gasped at the implications of what had just been reported. Daniel met Rose's eyes as an unspoken message transpired between them.

"Has the President of the United States been alerted to any of this?" Martha Jones asked as she breathlessly ran inside the room, a half eaten piece of fruit causing her speech to be a little garbled. In her ear, a specially designed Blue Tooth device containing a Torchwood logo continued its updating of the situation to her. She swallowed the remainder of her meager lunch and took a seat beside Daniel, her dark eyes following his to look at Rose.

"The President has received no other news than what the Secretary of Defense is calling this. We are being advised by newly elected Prime Minister Lethbridge-Stewart not to tell the White House the temporal, possibly alien, part of it," another Board Member responded, this one darker skinned than Martha was, her Ethiopian accent coming to the fore.

"A wise precaution, Madame Ubutu," Daniel commented. "It would probably be like waving a red flag in front of the proverbial bull to reveal too much before this has been looked into any further."

Board Member Mohanti Ubutu's eyes turned on the human Time Lord as another Board Member, this one a Londoner, supplied information on who Daniel was. She appraised the Premier Scientific Advisor, her orbs confirming that this thin, wiry looking man knew more than he let on, but that he also had a pulse on things that was sorely needed.

"All right," Mrs. Ubutu said to some of the Board Members, "it seems that we should send a team of more advanced Scientific Advisors to investigate this quietly before any other alarms are raised. Who is most qualified, Miss Tyler?"

Daniel stared at Rose, but she surprised him as she said two other scientists: Ianto Smith and Hiralto Davies would be assigned to go to the States. His eyes contained a more than a hint of disappointment and beyond that, annoyance, at not being allowed to investigate the subtle-yet-obvious message directed at him, possibly the thing Sullivan was contacting Rose about.

"You will convene with the leader for our American contact, Officer Dorothy MacShane as soon as you touch down in Anchorage at our base," Rose said, all business now, ignoring her boyfriend's stare at her.

"As for the rest of you: this is top priority!" the first Board member who had thanked the scientists for coming told the employees. "Research this to the letter! We have to know not only what caused this, but also who or what is responsible. If it does represent an alien threat, that must be found, and stopped!"

Rose took some folders and handed them to the scientists, saying, "This contains all of the data gathered by the American scientists. Study it, and if you find anything of significance, report about it immediately! Dismissed!"

The scientists, Board members, and Martha dispersed, leaving Daniel and Rose alone in the room.

Daniel protested, "Rose, if this is temporal, you know I need to investigate it! No one, especially Smith and Davies, has the depth of knowledge that I have!"

Rose's hazel eyes met her boyfriend's brown ones. She hated not letting her Doctor do what he did best: solving unique mysteries, especially those involving Time, but Sullivan had advised her to just say no to him. Rose didn't know why, but her mind told her this was the best course to take, especially if it somehow saved Daniel's life.

"I'm sorry, but I have to pull rank on this one…" Rose said sheepishly.

Pointing accusingly at her, Daniel exploded, "Don't give me a bloody argument about pulling rank!"

Rose tried again. "Davies and Jones are qualified…" Rose replied calmly.

"Oi!" Daniel shouted. "Qualified for what? They may be top scientists in their fields, but as far as temporal know how, they are about as qualified as two five year olds!"

"I need you here, and that's the end of it," Rose said, hating that she couldn't reveal everything to the love of her life. Daniel was equally calm, but an ice in his eyes had replaced the usual warmness.

"Very well, _boss,_" he ground out. "I suppose I should get back to the thing I was investigating before I was so rudely interrupted." He stood up, leaving, but not before giving Rose a mock salute.

As he left the room, the young woman felt tears gathering in her eyes. She knew she trusted Sullivan's information, but did she trust that everything would turn out all right? Rose found that she didn't want to answer that question just yet as she left the board room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

In an office not too far from Torchwood, a lone figure smiled. When the truth was shortly revealed, his enemy would pay, and pay dearly for what he had done. If others were caught in the crossfire, well, wars had their casualties. He poured a glass of Madeira and toasted his success, his eyes dancing with mirth at the trick he would play on them all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night, Rose waited for Daniel at her penthouse, but as the clock struck nine and he hadn't shown up, she figured he was still in a snit about the fight they'd had. She went to the refrigerator and, grabbing a banana, stared down at it. She remembered how the Doctor had loved bananas.

_Bananas are good…_his Ninth self had said. Rose adored them, too, but she found that she couldn't eat a fruit that made her think of either her former love so far away, or her current one. She wondered where the Time Lord was and if he thought of her at all.

Her ringing cell phone gave her the distraction she needed. Rose jerked it from her pocket and, flipping it open, eagerly asked, "Yes?"

"I need to see you at your place," Daniel said urgently. Rose was somewhat annoyed at herself, thinking that she should have been used to her Doctor's brusque manner when he was investigating something.

"What is it? What have you found?" Rose asked.

"I'd rather not reveal it over the phone," Daniel responded. "I'll meet you at your place in 26 minutes and 15 seconds."

"Leave it to a Time Lord to be that precise," she joked. Her boyfriend hung up the phone. Rose settled down to wait. She hoped that, in addition to Daniel's news, that they could put the fight they'd had earlier behind them.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, Rose opened the door to a slightly soaked human Time Lord. Daniel shook out his hair, which was still plastered to his face.

"Quite a blower out there!" he said as he strode into her living room. He hung his coat on the coat hanger by her door and, without preamble, he crossed over to her wide screen computer.

"You might start by saying 'hello'", she said.

"Sorry," Daniel told her. He enveloped Rose in his now cooler temperature.

"You feel like the old Doctor," the young woman commented.

"Heavy storm tonight," Daniel told her. "It almost chilled me to the bone."

"I'll get you your spare suit," Rose said, going to his bedroom beside hers. She grabbed one of his favorites, a navy blue suit without the pinstripes. After he finished changing in the bathroom, they sat in front of the computer terminal at Rose's large desk.

"So, what's up?" she asked. Daniel inserted the disc he had been reviewing earlier that day and later after the Board meeting.

"I looked at the whole disc on Liam Sullivan's life, and for four fifths of it, there was nothing extraordinary…" Daniel began as Rose saw the same images the human Gallifreyan had seen.

"…but when I came to the end of the disc, this appeared," he said. Rose stared at the concentric circles and shapes superimposed over the pictures of Sullivan.

"Gallifreyan symbols…" she replied thoughtfully. "So Sullivan _is_ a Time Lord."

"Or," Daniel responded, concentrating, "there's another Time Lord sending a message about Mr. Sullivan."

"You don't know who this is from?" Rose asked. Daniel shook his head. He took his glasses out of his pocket and put them on, peering more deeply at the screen.

"Are there any discerning symbols, like, I dunno…a personal signature, maybe, to show who sent it?" Rose asked.

"I didn't see anything," he answered, punching some buttons.

After he punched every button he knew to press, Daniel said, frustrated, "There is only an encrypted message. I can't break the code."

They both stared at the screen for a moment longer. Rose peered at a series of swirls which, while they resembled the other designs, looked slightly different.

"You know that translation-identifier you and the lab boys developed last month?" Rose asked.

Daniel thought about one of his many inventions. This one could identify over 37 million forms of written alien communications when it scanned data. Daniel had forgotten that one; so lost was he in the sea of inventions he was developing. Maybe his age _was_ catching up, particularly since he was 50 percent human. He didn't like being so forgetful.

"Rhy'ana," he said, kissing her with a decided smack, "you're brilliant!" He ran to his bedroom, displaying the manic energy of the other Doctors she had known, and got out what resembled his sire's sonic screwdriver. The main difference was that the cylindrical instrument was slightly larger but with fewer settings. He held up the blue light to the screen, running it over the words.

"I don't see a signature. These symbols form only one word…" Daniel told Rose. "I couldn't break the code earlier because it is in an obscure dialect that was known to only a few Time Lords."

"What does it say?" she asked. Daniel looked at his girlfriend, his face grim.

"_Dr'o'mas'os…"_ he responded, then clarified in English, "that means 'sleepers'."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

**A/n: Sorry for the delay in posting another chapter to this and my other "Doctor Who" fan fiction. I am currently working on several stories, so circumnavigating through the updating canal is a little challenging at the moment. Anyway, the plot thickens with not one, but two adversaries.**

**The town of "Tempera" is made up; however, if there is such a place, no infringement on the name, or any other aspect of any town with that name is intended. In short, I still don't own anything except some minor characters.**

_He held up the blue light to the screen, running it over the words…._

"_What does it say?" she asked. Daniel looked at his girlfriend, his face grim._

"_Dr'o'mas'os…" he responded, then clarified in English, "that means 'sleepers'."_

"That was the term they used for terrorist armies when they were dormant on my old world," Rose mused. "I wonder if the term means the same thing here...".

Daniel responded, "It could. Universes don't _always_ have different references between them. Some things stay the same."

He accessed the _World Wide Dictionary Database, _aka the WWDD and typed in "sleepers". The definition came up on the screen a moment later.

It was the second definition which caught the duo's eyes. Rose read aloud as the human Doctor listened with rapt attention. "...a being or individual coerced by a mind altering procedure resembling hypnotism or brainwashing who is selected by a leader, usually a terrorist or a facist, to perform a task at a future moment. Said task usually involves a military function on a global scale," she said.

She turned from the screen and regarded her boyfriend. "Question is: who would want to hypnotize someone, an' why?" she wondered aloud. "Not only that, but what have they been selected to do?"

"Take your pick," Daniel responded. "There are many who wish to exploit or destroy this planet's resources, people, an' so on, and there are many ways someone can get a person or persons to do it. There has to be a common link somewhere."

"I wonder if the event with the glacier is somehow tied up in this..." Rose mused.

"Probably," Daniel muttered. "Too much of a coincidence not to be a precursor to something bigger."

Daniel put on his glasses and thought a moment. "There are other questions too, such as: where are the persons being affected, an' if we find them, can we keep them from doing anything harmful that could jeopardize themselves, or mankind?" he asked.

Rose observed the half Gallifreyan. He looked calm as though what had already occurred was a minor incident. "You don't look worried," she stated the obvious.

"I'm not...yet," Daniel told her. "More curious than anything. Want to get more info before pushin' any panic buttons."

"We should start with our friend who told us about the sleepers. Who is he or she, an' why did that person warn us about them?" Rose wanted to know.

Daniel stroked his chin thoughtfully, saying, "Yes, well, that's the puzzle, isn't it?" He pulled up the images on the disk of Sullivan and ran the 'screwdriver over the words and Gallifreyan symbols again.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

_(Tempera, California, Present Day...)_

Charles Peters kissed his wife and went into the kitchen to fortify himself with breakfast before going off to his job at his law office. He poured himself a cup of coffee and looked at his children playing at the breakfast table. His son, seven-year-old Josh, was the spitting image of him; Josh's nine-year-old sister, Camille, resembled her carrot-topped mother. Charles adjusted the picture on the miniature set he had in the kitchen and watched yet another broadcast of the doings of the President.

The middle aged lawyer's eyes darted back to his children, who were blissfully unaware of the conflicts in the world as they played with their breakfast. Envious of his little ones, Charles wished that once, just once, the clock could turn back and he could be a child again. It seemed to him that the older one got, the more complicated things became, and he could sympathize with anyone in his position. His eyes shifted back to the news broadcasts.

Josh watched his dad, who became totally engrossed in the day's events on the TV. The seven-year-old boy saw his opportunity. From beneath the table, a water pistol emerged. Josh squirted his sister in the eye.

"Jooossshhh!!" Camille wailed. "You are such a retard. Daddy, make him _stop!"_

"Tattletale!" Josh shouted back, continuing his assault. Cassandra Peters, their mother, walked into the kitchen and grabbed the pistol.

"MOM!!" Josh cried. Camille smiled a triumphant grin at her brother's misfortune.

The middle aged mother with the carrot-topped head of hair waved the pistol for a moment before putting the toy into a utility drawer and locking it. She was glad that she had installed locks which could only be opened with a key, a key that only she and Charles had, of course.

Cassandra looked at her son, saying, "Don't 'mom' me. What did I tell you about playing at the table, and about using any kind of guns?"

His eyes downcast, Josh repeated the lesson his parents had both told him. The seven-year-old said, "'Don't play games at the kitchen table, and playing with guns or knives is dangerous.'"

"That's right," she said.

"But _whyyyy?_" Josh whined. "It only shoots water!"

"Because they _kill _people, you doofus!" Camille snapped, her nine-year-old hands on her hips.

"Not _water_ guns!" Josh pressed his point.

Cassandra whirled on her son, saying, "Any kind of gun is dangerous! Suppose you had really hurt your sister's eyes with that thing?"

She then turned toward her daughter and pinned her with a stare. "And _you! _What did I say yesterday about name calling?"

Camille repeated her mother's instructions, saying, "'If you can't say somethin' nice, don't say anything at all.'"

Her attack not quite done yet, the mother of two looked at her husband, who was still engrossed with the news. "Hey, Charles!" she called sarcastically. "Got a minute to actually be a _father?_"

Charles drank some more coffee and said in a tired voice, "Kids, listen to your mother!"

Cassandra rolled her eyes, saying, "Oh, thanks a lot! Sometimes, I think you act more like a child than they do!" The beeping of a horn outside of their house silenced any further discussion. Cassandra gave the kids their lunch boxes, and got their jackets on. Charles grabbed a muffin and went toward his car.

Cassandra walked out with Josh and Camille. Spying the yellow school bus parked by the curb, she helped her children onto it and said, "Bye, kids!" When the children had said "good bye" and were safely off, she went to her husband's car.

"Honey, could you give me a ride to work?" she asked. "My car's still in the shop." When Charles didn't answer, his wife walked closer to the car.

"Charlie! I'm speaking to you!" she hollered. There was still no answer. Cassandra yelled again, and this time, she heard a voice.

"Are you speaking to me, Carrot Top?" a squeaky voice belonging to a teenage boy asked from inside of the car.

_Playing a joke, are we? _Cassandra thought, smiling. She remembered the high school boy who'd captured her heart more than thirty years ago and how her future husband had called her "Carrot Top". They had married when they had gotten their law degrees. Both sets of Charles' and Cassandra's parents had captured the moments of their lives, from the time they had been born until the time they had graduated from the same university. The films and videos of the Peters' lives were tucked away in the corner of their basement. They sat there gathering dust, a reminder of the days long gone before routines, mortgages, children and middle age had settled in.

Cassandra thought she could play along with Charles since he seemed to have a sense of humor this morning. "Lady Carrot top is speaking to you!" she teased, trying to sound like a teenage girl. She let herself in the car and saw the shy, nerdy looking teenage boy that her husband had been thirty years before, sitting behind the steering wheel.

And then, the mother of two screamed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Not far from Tempera, in a lab in Los Angeles, a black-haired young botanist pushed her sunglasses higher on her face. Her smile was open and engaging as she gloated over her benefactor's proposition and her part in his overall schemes.

Dr. Ykranoss remembered him when he had visited her, excitement sounding in his Irish lilt. His green eyes had been blazing with the determination of one who wanted to see his plan come to fruition. He had told her it would be easy.

The door swung open. Her assistant came in, all full of boundless energy. "Dr. Ykranoss!" he exclaimed. "The first results are in, and they seem very encouraging! This could revolutionize the industry, and we practically have the patent on doing this naturally, without any drugs or Botox injections!"

He handed a piece of paper to Dr. Ykranoss. She took it in her eager hands and studied the findings. Her benefactor would be so pleased.

"Yes, this does look promising," she said. Dr. Ykranoss then turned to her assistant and told him, "Thanks, Peter, for this report. I have some other work to finish up, so you may go."

Peter left the laboratory, a grin on his face at the progress they had made. His female employer's grin was even wider as she thought about the falsified report Peter had unknowingly just handed to her.

She crossed to a file cabinet and promptly deposited the "report" into the correct folder. Beneath all of the folders, the botanist pulled out a red folder marked "confidential", and "to be opened only by Dr. P. Ykranoss." She flipped open the real report of the test results of the subjects in Tempera. A worried look crossed her face as she scanned the papers.

Her cell phone rang, cutting into her fears. Dr. Ykranoss looked down at the number and knew that it was _him_. "Hello, Mr. Sullivan," she said eagerly.

"Hello, Doctor Ykranoss," he greeted. "I trust you have some good news for me?"

"The test subjects are responding well to treatment," she reported, her expression returning to normal.

"Perfect!" Sullivan crowed. "And no one can trace it back to your lab, can they?"

"No," she answered him. She felt her anxieties creeping back as she asked him, "what we're doing won't kill anyone, will it?"

Sullivan said in a reassuring tone, "No, of course it won't. I wish to help people, not hurt them. You are an integral part of that, m'dear." Dr. Ykranoss smiled, relieved and comforted by Sullivan's words.

The botanist told the Irish man, "I've covered every trace, just as you instructed." In his dwelling, the little man smiled.

"Excellent! We must continue to be careful, however. There are those who may misconstrue our intentions!" he instructed.

Dr. Ykranoss was confused. "But I don't understand," she said. "If we're helping mankind in the long run, why would anyone want to undermine that?"

Sullivan responded, "There could be many reasons. Just believe me when I say that we're not in the clear yet in everything; however, I will take care of the ones who will wish to oppose us.

I'm sure that this and the other incident have already attracted some unwanted attention, or it soon will."

"Of course. I stand ready to aid you in any way possible," she told Sullivan.

After thanking the botanist, her patron ended the call. In his home, Sullivan looked at an antique chess board and selected a pawn. He fingered the white piece for a moment, and then he crushed it between his long, thin fingers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Across the pond, in his office in London, the man who had celebrated his triumph earlier with a glass of Madiera smiled. He was glad he had discreetly set up his surveillance cameras and microphones throughout the places he anticipated his foes would be most likely to attack. The being reached across the table and placed a phone call to the place where the one who would best serve his purpose worked.

"Hello? This is Miss Robinson at Torchwood. How may I direct your call?" a female voice asked.

"Good evening, Miss," the stranger said, his voice pleasant. "I was wondering if you could help me. I have some information for Mr. Daniel William Piper, and I was wondering, if I have it sent by special delivery, would he receive it by noon tomorrow?"

"If it is an emergency, I shall give it top priority, Mr…?" she asked.

"Mr. Rex will suffice," he said. "I will have it dropped off."

"Of course, Mr. Rex," the receptionist said. "You _do _understand that, emergency or not, we shall still have to have the package screened?"

"I would not expect anything less," Rex told the woman.

After providing the location where Mr. Rex could leave the information, Miss Robinson asked, "Do you have a phone number where you may be reached if he has any questions?"

The stranger stared out of his window at London's night sky. "Oh, I will contact _him,_ Miss. Thanks very much," he said.

Before the receptionist could get any more information from Mr. Rex, he hung up the phone. Everything was going according to his specifications and machinations. Rex knew what the screeners would find, and he calculated how long it would be before the human scientist had the materials Rex wanted him to receive. When Daniel William Piper and his enemy squared off against each other, the mysterious Mr. Rex would sit back and watch the fireworks with glee.

_Game, set and match! _Rex thought, laughing.


	7. Chapter 7

THE RETURN CHAPTER SEVEN

**A/N: Martha gets closer to the truth as another temporal bomb is released. **

XXXXXXXXXXX

Martha Estelle Jones thought about the events of the past few days as she drove to work. There was something going on, not just because of the meeting she, Daniel and the other scientists had attended, but because her compatriot in all matters scientific seemed closed off and withdrawn these days.

While the skinny, brown haired genius wasn't exactly always forthcoming with information, he still shared something about his work or the day's news with her. She had always felt like they worked as one unit in the science department at _Torchwood. _But lately, he seemed closed lipped. Another thing she noticed was that the camaraderie between Daniel and Rose seemed strained.

She could not put her finger on it, but whenever Rose would walk into the science lab, Daniel would usher her out and they'd talk in hushed whispers about what was going on. Barring that, Daniel wouldn't reach out and touch his significant other's hand, or look at her with love in his expressive eyes anymore. The look he sported now was one of either frustration, or disappointment. Rose looked as though she sometimes wanted the Earth to swallow her up.

The fellow scientist turned and parked as always in her assigned space. She took the elevator to the mailroom to check on any arriving parcels. Inwardly, Martha hoped that the day would prove to be a turning point for her work colleague and Rose. She wanted for them to get their love train back on track, and soon.

"Hello, Pietra," Martha greeted. The receptionist stopped grooming her fingernails with polish and smiled.

"Dr. Jones," she said. She blew on her nails and shook them.

"Nice nail polish," Martha praised. "It really suits your complexion."

"You really think so?" the receptionist Pietra Robinson asked, beaming. "I wasn't sure if this would do, but I'm glad you think I made a great choice." She motioned Martha closer and lowered her voice.

"I'm going out later, you see, for the first time," Pietra told Martha. "Finally got Steven Harrison in laboratory two to give two quid about me, an' he's taking me out to dinner."

Martha gave her the thumbs up, saying, "Good luck to you both! I _know_ it will work out."

Pietra thanked the darker complexioned scientist, then her eyes fell on the manila folder on her desk. "Oh, by the way, Martha," she said, "a messenger dropped this off straight away. I ran it through the preliminary scanner and it came up clean, but you might want to check it in the science lab."

Martha helped herself to some plastic gloves that Pietra kept on the side of her desk. One could never tell these days if someone wanted to blow the _Torchwood _building out of existence to get back at the projects the think tank engaged in or if one coated an envelope with poison. She picked up the manila folder. There was an address label on the side of it. It was in ordinary type face, and the only clue to the envelope's place of origin was the postal box number and the fact that it had been mailed from the main branch in London.

"Who sent this?" Martha asked.

Pietra answered, "The messenger said he was delivering it for Mr. Rex. Mr. Rex was leaving that package for Dr. Piper."

Martha studied the envelope again, and she said, "Don't worry. I'll have it screened one more time and see that Daniel gets it." She walked off and then got into the elevator.

When the elevator reached the floor where their lab was, Martha placed the envelope in her purse, then poked her head inside.

"Daniel?" she called, looking to see if he was around.

"Daniel?" Martha asked again. When she didn't see the taller scientist lurking about she took the envelope from her purse. A crystal was stuck inside of it. Martha shook the piece of jewelry out, marveling at its lightness. The gem had many facets and colors, and it shone like a princess cut diamond, yet with many more sections. Dr. Jones was about to mentally question who would send her work colleague a piece of jewelry when she felt a strange stirring inside her mind.

The sensation dissipated, but as she studied the jewel again, Martha noticed some inscriptions inside of it. She took the gem to the scanner and placed it gently on the machine. When she shined the light over the diamond like substance, the images etched therein materialized on the wall. The scientist saw several patterns and shapes: squares, circles and triangles, some large; some small. The circles seemed to overlap, but the squares and triangles were alone.

Martha wrote the shapes down, carefully duplicating the size of them.

_Who would send circles and squares on a page to Daniel, and why? _She wondered mentally.

Wherever Daniel was, she would get some answers to some long standing questions the moment he returned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, the object of Martha's curiosity was riding with Rose to the hospital. The radio was blaring out the latest news. Daniel and Rose were listening.

"Do I understand correctly that there are no further updates as to the survivors of Flight 313 from Sydney, Australia to London at this time?" the female commentator asked.

"That is correct," another voice, this time male, confirmed.

"For those just joining us, the passengers and crew of a 777 flight en route from Sydney, Australia to London's Heathrow Airport yesterday suffered what authorities are describing as a massive dose of poisoning, although it is unclear at this time what symptoms have occurred, which substance is at fault, and even whether this toxin is contained. Heathrow is temporarily shut down pending an investigation. All one hundred and ten of the plane's occupants were taken to London's Queens Hospital, the largest hospital in the city.

"Investigators are exploring every possibility, including the notion of a bio-terrorist incident. We will keep you posted in the instance of new developments. It is advised that you check with your individual airlines periodically to see if normal air traffic from Heathrow has resumed. Should you wish to contact this radio station to see if there were any loved ones aboard flight 313, the number is.,." Daniel switched off the radio broadcast.

"Now then, Rose, what is the _real _reason we're visiting these people?" he wanted to know. Rose looked grim as she drove into the parking area.

"I think you need to see this for yourself," she said. They both got out of Rose's car and went inside the hospital. When they neared the reception desk, Rose showed her ID, along with Daniel.

A doctor emerged from behind the swinging doors. "Are you the people from Torchwood?" he asked nervously.

"Yes," Daniel answered. "What seems to be the trouble?" The doctor motioned Rose and the human Doctor toward the room. He handed them face masks and medical gear. Once the pair was adequately dressed, he looked at them with baffled eyes.

"Air traffic got a radio signal from the tower that the pilot and co pilots claimed head and stomach trauma just before landing at Heathrow. By the time medical personnel arrived, all of the occupants still inside the plane were having some sort of health crisis. That is not the most bizarre occurrence, however," the medical doctor reported.

"And what is?" Daniel queried. His eyes fell on two patients who lay on their beds. The medical doctor went to one of them. The man's face was totally bandaged, but the human Gallifreyan saw his old, gnarled fingers as they gripped the sheets.

Rose saw that his neck was ancient looking. The doctor peeled back the bandage to reveal a man who had an old, wrinkled face with snow white hair. The face had younger looking eyes; blue eyes which were alert and curious with the vibrancy of a teenager.

"Doctor...?" the patient asked.

"I'm right here, Mr. McGuire," the medical doctor said. "Are you up to answering some questions?"

Mr. McGuire snorted, saying, "Of course I am!"

"Tell these people what you just told me," the doctor requested.

Mr. McGuire's eyes landed on Rose as he said, "I had just finished my meal on the plane when a strange sensation overtook me. I—I don't know how to describe it, but I had the most terrible migraine a moment afterwards. I never get migraines. In fact, I am as healthy as two horses put together. Despite my protestations, the doctors here said they were keeping me for observation. Imagine, them keeping me at my age here!"

"An' how old are you, Mr. McGuire?" Daniel asked. The man's eyes stared at him with a stony expression which seemed to say, _what, are you blind?_

"I'm twenty seven," he said. Rose's hand flew to her mouth.

"We ran every test we know to test their mental stability," the medical doctor reported. "All of them that we checked were lucid and perfectly in control of their mental faculties. No signs of Alzheimer's, senility, or any mental degenerative diseases of any kind."

"They're _al_l like this?" she asked.

The doctor ushered the pair outside. "Yes. The oldest one we tested was only forty six, yet all of the patients look as though they've had at least fifty years added to their age," the doctor said. "Of course, we would need to verify their ages with others who know them, but we did check their identification photos. They listed various ages, none over 45 thus far. It was after we saw those identifications and the test results that we decided to call you. I understand your operation investigates unusual happenings."

Daniel smiled broadly, saying, "We certainly do!"

Rose and Daniel shared a look before she said, "I wonder if you could tell us what tests were taken to ascertain the persons' ages."

"Figured you'd want to compare those as well as the identifications," the doctor told them. He led them to a lab by his office. The medical practitioner handed Daniel several charts.

The doctor also gave Rose some information on some driver's licenses. Daniel scanned all of the data on the charts rapidly. At the doctor's questioning gaze, Rose looked at him and smiled.

"Speed reader," she said. The medical doctor said a very quiet, "oh".

"I don't suppose I could look at these in depth?" Daniel asked, a hopeful expression in his brown eyes.

"I'm not supposed to release any records on any patients," the medical doctor said in an almost robotic tone. He was used to dealing with those who wanted information at the cost of confidentiality.

Rose pulled out an official looking document and handed it to him. The doctor read the paper, and then sighed. "You'll not attach blame to me, or to my staff, correct?" he asked.

"I'll return the records within a day," Daniel promised. "Should keep you out of trouble. Meanwhile, I wouldn't leak any information to the media, an' all that."

The doctor was aghast. "I don't know if I can hold the information for that long! What about the relatives of the victims on the plane?! They'll want to know _something!_" he cried.

Rose looked at him with sympathy. She had an idea. "Since this does constitute an emergency of a possible alien or other threat that you aren't equipped to handle, what say we transport these patients to a nearby facility, thereby removing the responsibility from you?" She suggested.

The medical doctor frowned. He didn't want to give up his control over this unusual occurrence. The scientist in him was chock full of questions; however, the practical side of him didn't know how long he would be able to keep quiet about over 100 young, healthy individuals suddenly aging rapidly.

"Very well," he said. "What shall I do?"

"Some personnel will be dispatched straight away," Rose confirmed. "They should be here within the hour. In the meantime, I'll have some guards cover the wings where the patients are staying. You shall have to fend off any media invasions in the meantime."

The doctor nodded glumly. He didn't know how he would keep the hounds of the media at bay, and he also didn't know what to tell loved ones or mates if they descended on the hospital. Forcing himself to remain calm, he went out of the room to address his staff.

When Rose and the half Gallifreyan were alone, Daniel took out his sonic screwdriver and, crossing over to Mr. McGuire's hospital roommate, he scanned him, then studied the readout.

"No doubt about it…" Daniel muttered. "The hospital doctor was right! This man looks like he's about a hundred years old if he's a day, yet some of the signs on the indicator indicate that he's only one third of that age."

The human Time Lord rocked on his heels, saying, "Hah! Made a funny, that one!"

Rose was indignant. "What's such a chuckler about someone who flies to Australia in the prime o' life then comes back as a grandpa?" she asked.

Daniel shook his head, saying, "No, no, not that! The fact that I said, 'indicator indicate'. Sounds a lot like 'Alonsy Alonzo'! Amazing, the words one can come up with. Just flows, doesn't it? Now I have a new catchphrase! The indicators indicate! Crimey, just like the identifiers identify…"

"Stop that!" Rose ordered. "Don't make me slap you!"

"You do an' see how I respond, Sunshine!" the human Gallifreyan snapped. He forced himself to calm down, acknowledging, "You're right, Rose. Sorry. I'll study these findings in the lab and see what I can come up with. I have a theory about this though. Ties into another case out in California which just turned up yesterday."

They walked outside of the hospital. Daniel signaled a taxicab and told Rose that he'd meet her later in his lab. Rose nodded and waited for the driver to pull away. She then put on her "director mode" and waited for _Torchwood's _personnel to arrive.


	8. Chapter 8

THE RETURN

CHAPTER EIGHT

**A/N: Some clues and/or hints to the villains are revealed in this chapter.**

**Disclaimers: for disclaimers see chapter one.**

XXXXXXXXXXX

Donna Noble drove endlessly to her secret rendezvous that evening. She had promised her first appointment that she would meet him the next day, but it was her current meeting that excited her. When she got past the streets of London, she breathed a sigh of relief. Donna had thought that _he _might follow, but there was no sign of him closing in on her. She was safe, and hopefully soon she would put an end to the state of affairs she had been part of.

The titian haired woman drove till she reached the countryside and parked along one of its many Kelly green colored hills. A man waited for her, his lips curling in a sensual grin. She ran into his waiting arms, and they kissed greedily. After the briefest of moments, the man let her go.

"No, just a minute more..." she protested.

The man pushed her away. Donna forced herself not to be too disappointed. She knew that he would not respond well to a huge emotional display, and she did not want him to disappear, or do something worse to her.

"You have something to tell me?" he asked. "What is he planning?"

Donna responded, "I don't know. He won't tell me anything, only that I am to meet him tomorrow at Queen Elizabeth Park." The man swore softly, but then grinned a moment later. The smile was a fake one, however. Although he had been pleased with the way things were going, his foe had still managed to gain a major foothold in this universe.

_But not for long,_ the man decided. Donna regarded him with interest.

"He is so predictable, trying to influence you like that," he said with disgust. His gloved hand reached out to caress Donna's cheek. She caught his cool leather touch with one of her own, pulling the glove off and kissing his fingers.

She tried to reassure him, saying, "But he doesn't know about me, thanks to the mind blocking techniques you taught me."

"They won't last long," he said ruefully. Donna frowned, then her brown eyes clouded with worry.

"I hate this whole _thing!_" she exclaimed, more out of fear than anger. "Maybe we should get out...leave town or something."

"And admit defeat?" he asked, then he roared, "Never!!"

"Yes, but what is he up to now?" she asked. "We can't act if we don't know anything!"

"That's where you come in," the man said. "You must convince him that you're on his side. You will attend the meeting tomorrow, and promise you'll do whatever he wants."

"But..." Donna started saying. The man placed two fingers to her lips to silence her.

"None of that," he cautioned. "Once he is swinging from the end of my hangman's noose, we'll both know peace, and we can celebrate." Donna smiled at that. He was right, just as he always had been. In a few short days, her marital partner's enemy would see death, and she would toast to her husband's victory. She smiled lasciviously at the man in front of her.

"I must admit, this shape you're wearing will take some getting used to, but I love the accent," she purred. Her hand moved down between his legs, and she reached inside his pants.

"What are you...?" he asked.

"I have to see him tomorrow, but no one said anything about tonight, and we _are _all alone," she said. "It's been so long...so long." Her hand continued its stroking. He found to his surprise that he was letting her have her way.

"Might I say that your current form has definite...advantages..." he slurred, his voice thick with desire. They sank to the grass below on their knees, removing their clothes under the night sky.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mr. Sullivan stepped out of the plane in Anchorage, Alaska. He zipped up his Bomber jacket more out of habit than necessity and waited for the officer who would be arriving shortly to greet him. When he made out the snowmobile with the United States Intelligence Task Force logo, the Irish man went over to it and waited patiently for its occupant to emerge.

"You certainly took your time," he said.

"I had to allay suspicions, and I had to wait until the meeting was over," she told the shorter man. His green eyes flew to her hazel ones suddenly.

"What kind of suspicions?" he asked warily.

"Just the usual ones about the American U.N.I.T. charter not doing its job properly," she said. "I reminded the Torchwood scientists that it was not just American experts working on the Glacier Project, but that it was very much a global affair."

"And you showed them evidence that there was nothing to worry about, just as I instructed?" he asked her.

"Affirmative, sir," she said, giving Sullivan a salute.

The ghost of a grin dotted his face; a manic one borne of days long gone. Then, as if he were doing a dirty thing by smiling, his mask of indifference slipped back into place.

"You've done well, Officer McShane," he commented matter-of-factly. "You will continue on your present course of action until you hear otherwise from me."

"Of course," she said. "Would you like to see the rest of the base now?"

"Yes," Sullivan replied. "There is still much to do."

As she held the door open for him and he entered her jeep, the ginger- haired man thought about all the contacts he had yet to make. He had taken great pains to ensure that nothing would go wrong, and he would see his preparations to their inevitable conclusion. The Melancholy Leprechaun, as he had been dubbed by some, allowed himself some of the overconfidence which had dominated his people for so long. He also let himself see his latest pawn's place in the overall picture.

_After all,_ he thought sarcastically, _it always pays to have an Ace in the deck._

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Daniel breezed into the lab later that night and turned on the overhead light. He had gotten some materials from various labs that would aid him in studying the reports resembling temporal incidents which now littered his desk. The human Time Lord didn't see the dark skinned woman who had been waiting patiently for him to return.

"Hello, Daniel," Martha said. The chocolate eyed man's head whipped up from all of the data he was perusing.

"Oh, Martha!" he said. "Gave me such a fright! What are you doing, lurking about? Thought you'd be home by now."

"With all of the stuff going on?" she responded. "Not bloody likely."

Daniel arranged all of the notes and papers meticulously, tapping them on the table until they were together. He then put them to one side and regarded her.

"Something I can do for you?" he asked innocently, giving her a wide eyed look.

"You can tell me two things," she said, handing him the recently resealed envelope. He opened it and, spying the crystal in it, shut it promptly.

"Wha'?" he wanted to know.

"What the hell is in that envelope, and who are you, really?" she asked, her tone bordering on suspicious.

Martha had always hated secrets, Daniel knew, and he _also _knew that she had seen the contents of the envelope. He figured that she didn't know much about what was really going on, to say nothing of who he really was, but he knew that the total truth would eventually slip out.

The cloned Doctor didn't know however how much he should conceal, and how much she should know. If she was anything like the Martha Jones he had known on the other Earth, and despite her optimistic nature his experiences with her told him she was, she could accept the truth and be a valuable ally. Even so, he owed it to her to protect her from whoever was an enemy to himself and Rose.

_Of course, _he reasoned, _forewarned is forearmed._ He looked at his lab partner as if he were trying to see into her soul.

"I have a story to tell you," he said with dramatic emphasis, "and I need you to tell me how it will end between us." Selecting a chair and sitting across from him, Martha waited for Daniel to begin.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Donna breathed with her husband's gasps and sighs as she rode atop him under the stars. He didn't normally participate in this sort of thing, she knew. It just was very foreign to him; he had not been raised that way. But now, things were different. Now, the body he was inside of changed things. Now, they were on a more even keel.

Even though he wore the face and figure of a man she hardly knew, the woman knew the spirit of the one she loved above all else, just as he knew her. Sweat poured off of him as he prepared himself for the climax to come.

"Lucy," he let his endearment slip.

"_Harry," _she murmured, sinking even lower onto him and letting herself be devoured by his seed. They held each other in the aftermath, lost in the haze of their passion. He was glad he had thought to let Lucy share consciousness with him in the ring, and happy that the human who had unknowingly released his essence and his wife's was closely intertwined with his two foes.

_Life is good, _he decided with a smirk.

He let her cinnamon scent drift toward him and he grabbed the one who outwardly looked like Donna Noble possessively, reveling in her larger boned, shapely curves and her pale skin.

Tomorrow, they would fight the One who opposed them, but today; ah...today, they would hold each other, and she would pay tribute to him, the only man who would own her_._


	9. Chapter 9

THE RETURN: CHAPTER NINE

**A/N: Things are coming together as Martha, Daniel and other scientists start working together, and Rose comes closer to finding out who the puppet master is.**

**Please read and review.**

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

"I can't believe it! An actual _alien _just pitched up from…what did you call it again?" Martha asked.

"Gallifrey, in the constellation of Casterborous," Daniel responded, adding, "an' I didn't just 'pitch up' from there, but half of my origins are tied to that planet."

"And the other half is human…part of an Earth woman from a different Earth named Donna Noble?" she prompted. At Daniel's curt nod, Martha grinned broadly.

"So, judging from your expression, none o' this bothers you?" the half human Time Lord asked.

"_Bothers me?" _Martha squealed. "I should say not! This is the single most incredible thing since; well, since the big bang!"

Daniel ran his fingers through his big hair. "Gotta tell you about the big bang one day, 'bout my part in it," he said. A moment later, he waved his thought off.

"Listen to me: natterin' on," he told his friend, "when we've got work to do!" His brown eyes held Martha's slightly darker ones.

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone," he said. "That kind of information could be used against me, and Rose."

Martha got what Daniel was suggesting. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't tell. Even if U.N.I.T. and Torchwood believed me, they'd take you away an' put you under an electronic device in one of their labs an' never let you up for air. I wouldn't subject one of my human friends to scrutiny, and I _certainly _wouldn't subject my best friend to it."

Despite himself, Daniel's eyes started tearing. He gave Martha a hug, saying softly, "Thanks, Sunshine Girl."

Martha pulled away slowly from him, asking, "What did you call me?"

Daniel grinned, saying, "I called you 'Sunshine Girl', 'cause you're always full of positivity like that big, yellow sun straight up there!" His long arm pointed upward towards the position of the sun with perfect accuracy.

A moment later, he pouted, hinting, "Unless of course, you don't like it."

Martha reassured him by saying, "No, I like it. If only we could come up with a nickname for you."

Daniel responded, "Nonsense. I like my human name just fine."

"Even so," Martha declared, "it's a best friend's prerogative to come up with a suitable nickname."

Before either could speak again, one of the scientists in the nearby labs ran inside. "Daniel, Martha…" he said, showing them his mini-laptop and powering it up, "check it out! Another temporal bomb has been released, this time, in China only two thousand miles from the Great Wall."

Daniel and Martha peered at a small mountain which was erupting like a major volcano. Martha looked confused.

"It's just a volcanic eruption," she pronounced. "They happen in that country regularly."

Daniel shook his head, saying, "Not in that area. That mountain, the one the Chinese call the _Jinqu Shan_, loosely translated, 'The Dead Mountain', hasn't erupted for thousands of centuries."

"The Chinese scientists got wind of it when a science student, Lee Chang, reported it," the scientist explained. "A sample of some of the lava was taken, and it was determined that somehow, someway, the geo thermal properties of the dormant volcano had been altered with incredible rapidity. The Chinese scientists found that when they examined the lava in their labs, the pressure which caused the eruption had only built up 60 minutes before."

"Temporal bomb," both Daniel and Martha muttered.

"Someone's trying to create the period after this Earth's Ice Age," Daniel surmised, "the one known as the 'Natural Thermal', or 'Neo Thermal' period."

Martha snapped her fingers, saying, "The period when the excessive heat caused the Earth to form, and the mountains to erupt, before the lava dried, and the dinosaurs walked!"

Daniel nodded. The scientist spoke up just then. "There's something else," he reported grimly, "Russell and Davies, along with a Doctor Whiedon who was also researching the unique phenomena, disappeared."

Martha gasped, as the scientist continued, "It was on the telly briefly and in the papers," he said, handing one to Daniel as Martha read on beside him.

"'Fourth Scientist in Possible Global Bio Terror Incident Missing,'" she read, "'by Jane Smith. The total of scientists missing following an investigation of several unusual global phenomena is on the rise. At 10:45 AM, it had been leaked to this reporter that Professor Joshua Whiedon of the Geo Thermal Institute in Honolulu, Hawaii had disappeared. He had been allegedly checking into a volcanic eruption which occurred at 10:35PM last evening near the Great Wall. No one else was injured, since…'".

"Stop," Daniel instructed, copying the newspaper article and adding it to his ever growing folder of data.

"The top brass have called it: as of now, Director Rose's orders have been superseded and Senior Director Tyler, along with Madame Ubutu and the whole lot are appointing you two as the top scientists on this…with backup from yours truly and my team, of course!"

Daniel could hardly contain his elation that finally, he would be researching what he knew he should have done since the beginning. Rose would be angry, he knew, when she returned from her investigation, but if he could stop this at its source, she and the others he and Martha worked for and with would be so grateful that his being on the case would be commended.

"Glad to have you aboard, Dennis!" Daniel said to the sable brown haired man. He harrumphed, getting down to business.

Handing a list to the other scientist, Daniel told him, "there should be other headlines chronicling these mysteries as they occur. Try to see if you can track them down, and the people involved, yeah?"

Dennis playfully punched Daniel, saying cheerfully, "You've _got _it, boss! I'll let you know anything else I find!"

When Dennis had gone, Daniel muttered, "that should keep him and the others busy. In the meantime, what say you and I look at the man I know is responsible somehow for this: Liam Sullivan!"

Martha was bewildered. She waited for Daniel to explain himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose had started her car's engine when her Bluetooth device binged. She cursed, adjusting the volume a little, then activated the button so that the caller could hear her.

"'Ello?" she asked.

"Rose," Liam Sullivan said, "I must see you."

Rose felt the anger rising up inside. "You ruined me; ruined my chances with the greatest man I've ever known! I don't think I ever want to see you again!" she shouted. Rose turned the corner, nearly missing another vehicle, whose owner honked. The bottle blonde banked down her fury as she paid more attention to the road.

Sullivan's voice was tinged with regret. "I know, Rose; I know," he said sadly. "I did ruin your chance to engage in a happy relationship with your significant. But, it's still not too late."

"What do you mean?" Rose asked, not wanting to sound too desperate in front of this man.

"I realized that I was wrong, telling you to 'just say no' to his proposition. I destroyed the one thing he values above all else with you: trust," the Irish informant's deep voice said over the phone.

Rose could feel herself caving in. She wanted to repair the growing rift she had with Daniel, and she also wanted to find out Sullivan's true purpose in this seeming game they were all involved in. If she could get at the truth, she could explain things to her true love. Although he sometimes acted like the first Doctor she'd known with his boorish, acidic persona, Daniel could also be reasoned with once he calmed down.

Sullivan seemed to want to atone for his part in the scheme of things, and he sounded so sincere, so compelling, that she wanted to help him.

"Where and when can I meet you?" she asked.

"There's a grove by the Lane on Trafalgar Street," his voice told her. "You know it?"

Rose remembered that place. It was exactly like the one on her previous Earth. Before the Terareforming Commission, an environmental group of techno savvy people, introduced the herbs and minerals that transformed the land into an orange growing grove, it had been a junkyard like the one where she and Mickey had often played as kids.

_Wonder why he wants to meet there? _She thought, voicing her question.

"Think abou' it," Sullivan's voice answered. "Who would look for us in a grove? The information I have is very valuable, and I don't want to risk being discovered."

Rose didn't know why, but it seemed necessary all of a sudden that Liam Sullivan be protected from whoever or whatever was after him at all costs.

"Meet me at that place at 8PM," Sullivan said, adding, "come alone. Don't trust anybody, Rose." The Irishman up before Rose had a chance to answer.

The young director considered how she would keep Daniel from tagging along as her phone rang again.

"All right?" Rose greeted.

"Rose?" Daniel's voice came over the line. He sounded apologetic.

"I know I promised to swing by an' cook tonight, but I might be working late on this case," his voice said. "I can explain everything probably after 10, if that's okay."

Rose could hardly believe her good fortune. "Yeh, okay," she said.

Daniel's tenor was heard again as he asked, "You _sure _you aren't too disappointed? I might be able to beg off an' join you earlier…".

"No, love," Rose said, reassuring him. "It's jus'…I'll miss you. But if it concerns this case, there's nothin' more important, yeh?"

"Okay," Daniel's voice agreed. "I love you, Rhy'ana."

Rose said the same. The phone went silent as Daniel ended the call. Rose drove home to prepare dinner for herself before her meeting with Sullivan.

XXXXXXXXX

At the arranged meeting place, Sullivan prepared to greet the one woman who had profoundly changed the course of his life. He knew that the time had come to find peace and closure from the individual who could still tempt him to fall headfirst into the emotional tidal wave he'd fought for so long.

He would meet with her; he would reveal the truth about himself, and then, he would save humanity yet again from its pain.

And Rose would be the one who'd end it all.


	10. Chapter 10

THE RETURN CHAPTER TEN

**A/N: I'd clue you in, but that would be telling. Please read and review.**

Jack looked in his mirror as he shaved for work that evening. The U.N.I.T. Commander allowed a sardonic smile to cross his face.

"You've never looked better," he pronounced as he saw his image.

Suddenly, he felt a tremor seize him, just as he always did whenever something profound was about to happen. He nicked the left side of his face and threw away the razor, cursing. He thought about the smokes inside his pants' pocket. A long puff on a good cigar was what he needed.

Withdrawing the thing from his pocket, Jack threw the cigar away a second later, muttering, "filthy pastime. I don't know why I ever started that habit!" He went to his closet and put on his army fatigues. He glanced at the cut on his face that had healed and smiled. It was time, he decided. Jack grabbed his car keys and left for Torchwood.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Daniel rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes, staring at all of the evidence. He had not come home that day, or the previous one. He'd known something big was going on, but his senses were not as attuned as a complete Time Lord's. Propping his long, thin legs on his table, the scientist went over the list of letters and now numbers at the scene of each incident.

"Why can't I see it?" he wondered. "Why can't I make the connection?"

He started bounding from his seat but lost his balance as it slid out from under him. Toppling to the floor, the human Gallifreyan gingerly rubbed his bum and started thinking about what secrets the letters, and the crimes themselves, hid. Why, he questioned himself, would _anyone _go to such lengths to set off time bombs all over the world? Why not just simply end things by blowing up the Earth?

Getting up, he rattled off the seemingly random letters and numbers that he'd written, reading aloud, "500NSJTJ PY 50CMS500JGPA and…". He paused as the paper suddenly listed another set of letters, R1000T. They were in red, encased in gold. Daniel wondered why.

_R1000T, _he thought, _what's R1000T? _

He glanced at the list one more time and grabbed his evening paper before heading to the commissary for his dinner break. There were new things to taste, and he was famished. Daniel knew that food would perk him right up. He remembered the headline.

DISTURBANCE IN SOUTH PACIFIC STUNS SCIENTISTS, it read, by Jane Smith.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Donna went to meet her "client" after a small meal that night. She was glad that her parents were out of town for two weeks on a business trip to see about one of her mother's companies. She hated having to explain herself, especially now that she was _not _herself. The titian haired rich woman placed a call to her husband.

"Hello?" his baritone greeted.

"I just wanted to hear your voice," she admitted simply. "It reassures me that everything will be okay."

"Everything will be all right," his voice soothed.

"Can I kill the other?" she pleaded. _"Please. _It would be an honor to take care of him for you!"

"You will not alter the plan!" she heard him snap. "Our success depends on that."

Donna replied in the affirmative, hung up, and moments later, got into her Lamborghini. She opened the glove compartment and withdrew the firearm inside of it. Cocking it, she thought, _sorry, Harry, but I intend to use this!_

As she started her car and drove to Sheepshead Park to meet the man she both hated and feared more than any being on Earth, she said to herself, "forgive me, my love. But I think this is the best thing for all of us. He's too sick and twisted to live. We'll be much better off."

Donna parked her red sports car and waited patiently for her nemesis to arrive.

XXXXXXXXXXX

At his home, Sullivan grinned just a little when he realized that he was almost finished with what he was prepared to do. He had only to meet with Donna to tie up some loose ends in Sheepshead Park; then, he would come back to his dwelling to prepare for his special guest. All the pieces of the puzzle were coming together by his dictates, and no one, not even the half-breed she thought she fancied, would ever discover the truth.

The Sad Leprechaun considered the one he knew was beneath him in every respect. He wondered what kind of death should be visited on him, and how it could be administered so that the Irishman would achieve the greatest satisfaction from it. He dared not allow himself to be tainted by pleasure; no, useless emotional displays were for the ones who were the constant thorns in his side. But he would watch, and his conveyance would record that moment for posterity.

"Speaking of which," he said softly. His eyes were flat and empty as he took out his tool and worked on a component on a computer.

_No! You must not! _He heard in his mind. He knew that she would protest, but it did not deter him.

"In a moment, it will be over, and you will sing a different tune, my girl," he said to her. Feeling no trepidation, Sullivan used the last instrument at his disposal to complete his plan. After a moment, his eyes danced with the smallest amount of merriment. The strongest adversarial barrier had been overcome.

The once emotional, warm and feminine voice was gone, replaced by an empty, gravelly one in his thoughts. _Where would you like to go? _He heard in his mind.

"Sheepshead Park," he said. Sullivan activated a dial, choosing the correct destination and time for his special meeting. Without hesitation, the computer relayed the information and put it into the engines. The ship took the informant to the location he wanted.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose checked her makeup and hair as she drove back to _Torchwood _to meet her beau. They had not shared a meal in so long, and although he'd told her they could meet later that night, she had worked painstakingly to clear up her schedule so that her meeting him earlier in the cafeteria would be a complete surprise. She could hardly wait to finally get some answers she had been seeking for awhile from Liam Sullivan after she and Daniel shared an hour together.

"Really tears it, bein' a defender an' all," she murmured, promising that once this case was resolved, Rose would spend more time in her Doctor's company and snog him silly.

Rose thought about how she had wanted the original once upon a time before she had fallen for his clone. She wondered what the Doctor was doing at this moment. If he were in her universe, would he remember her at all? Would he even know her if, perchance, they met in the street? Had he changed again, and if so, which body was he wearing this time? The last one she'd known or maybe his eleventh one?

Daniel had explained that a Time Lord had thirteen lives, and that when his creator had first met Rose, he was sporting his ninth persona. So, that meant, the body and the man she had fallen for initially was the Ninth Doctor; equally, his clone, though not able to regenerate, was wearing the look of the original Doctor's Tenth frame. That meant that the Doctor only had three more bodies to go, if he hadn't used them up already. She had a feeling that he had probably rolled full speed ahead through all of them like a house on fire.

But, she told herself, no matter which face he wore, if he were with her, she would let him go personally, just as she had emotionally all those many months ago. The Time Lord had been her fairy prince in a fantastic tale, a being who wasn't really real anymore. Rose had grown tired of fairy tales. The real world was much more compelling, and immensely more satisfying.

She knew that, but she also knew that she had to prove it to Daniel.

Confident, she told herself that this dinner with him would go a long way toward revealing who she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Sullivan had been right: the informant never should have told Rose to say "no" to Daniel, and she never should have listened to Liam Sullivan, no matter how compelling his voice had seemed at the time. But Rose knew that what was unmade could be made; what was broken could be fixed given enough time.

The young woman got a simple salad and a small piece of beef while she waited for him to make his entrance. She toyed with her food, looking down at her plate while drinking occasionally. Then, when she looked up, Daniel was there, walking in her direction. Rose's eyes were instantly concerned as they took in his haggard appearance. Dark circles were under his expressive brown eyes, and his usually neat-as-a-pin suit was rumpled. Daniel yawned loudly, but when his eyes met hers, he smiled warmly with open love and affection.

"Rose…" he greeted, placing his tray in front of hers as they sat across from each other. He stifled a second yawn.

_Half human bodies, always getting tired at the wrong times! _He thought.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his orbs taking in every detail of her as he felt a part of his anatomy waking up suddenly.

Daniel imagined them in a chapel, exchanging vows; then, he hit fast forward to the night of passion where Rose would show him a language that had never been even imagined, much less taught, by Gallifreyan Time Lords as he cried out for her. His ever active mind conjured up so many things they could do to each other if only time could stand still.

Now, as Rose saw the feral glint in her mate's eyes, it was her turn to smile. "Havin' dinner with the man I want to spend time with most in all the world," Rose said. Her hand flew out to touch Daniel's. His long fingers gripped hers.

"Rhy'ana," he said, his eyes tearing slightly. "I'm touched. I thought we were over; well, not _over _over, but you seemed so distant, and I guess I was too. I'm glad that we still have something great between us."

"Me, too," Rose told him, letting go of his hand. "I love you, now an' forever. No matter what someone tells me to the contrary; no matter what happens, I'll _always _love you."

"Oh, Rhy'ana…" Daniel breathed again. "You don't know how I've wanted to hear you say that! No matter what we're workin' on, we should never…". He stopped short as Rose's words echoed in his ears.

"What was tha' you said a moment ago?" he asked.

"I'll always love…" Rose began. Daniel shook his head.

"No, no, no, I mean before that," the human Time Lord responded. When Rose looked confused, Daniel went on.

"You said, 'no matter what someone tells me to the contrary,'" Daniel said. "Who told you something to the contrary? Someone told you that you didn't love me? Is that why you acted strangely with me?"

Rose thought a moment. The name of Sullivan flashed before her eyes, but for some reason, her mind wasn't totally connecting with the fact that he had told her to 'just say "no"'. Her mouth opened, but for whatever reason, she couldn't utter his name. All she could think about was that her informant needed to be protected; that she could trust him beyond reason, and that he was always right.

"I…I…", Rose faltered.

Daniel's gaze bored into his girlfriend's. He gripped her arms, unconcerned with the stares directed at the pair. One coworker bravely went up to see if he could help, but a determined look from the human Time Lord had him sitting back down.

"They wish to be alone," he told his friends. Daniel confirmed that conclusion as he motioned to Rose to follow him out of the commissary. They got what food they could and left the cafeteria.

"_Who told you_?" he repeated more forcefully when they were alone. "What did they want you to do?"

She looked down at her apple, then back up at the half Gallifreyan. When she looked up at him, however, Rose didn't seem conflicted or confused. She seemed normal, as though she had forgotten the whole affair. Rose regarded him. She touched him with her hand, a perplexed look in her hazel eyes.

"Oi! Daniel, what is it?" she asked. "People are lookin'."

"What people?" Daniel asked. Rose saw that she was outside with him alone. When she asked why they were outside of the eatery, the human Time Lord frowned.

"I don't like this…" he murmured. "Don't like this at all." His mind whirled as he was struck by a thought.

"Rose, what time do you have?" he asked her. Rose checked her watch. It read 6:05PM.

Shaking her watch, she muttered, "Tha' can't be right! It's only six. I checked the time when I went to meet you."

"Blimey!" He exclaimed. "I was right! You don't remember the past…" he paused to check his watch before going on, "six minutes, do you?"

Rose blinked, trying to recall something, but she shook her head when she came up empty a moment later. When she saw her boyfriend launching into "explanation mode", she paused to listen.

"He, whoever he is, is inside your mind," Daniel told her. "That's why you can't reveal his name, and also why you don't recall me leading you out of the cafeteria! He has been controlling you from the first! Very clever of him!"

Rose was growing angrier with each passing second.

"He jumped back time in your mind. Your watch has the correct time, but you're seeing it incorrectly. You think it's only 6:03, but in reality, it's 6:09!" Her Doctor shouted.

"But who would do that, an' why?" Rose demanded.

"I have an idea," Daniel replied, "but I can't test my theory yet. If I go poking about in there, he'll find me, and he might take it out on you."

"Who's he then? What are you talking about?" Rose asked a moment later. "Wha' are we doin' out here?"

Daniel took out his sonic screwdriver and led her to a room the scientists used often. It was a room where they took naps and desensitized themselves to the world outside if there was a pressing need.

When Rose echoed her question, he thought, _temporal loop, but only to Rose, I hope. _He mentally promised his enemy, _When I find __**you**__, no second chances!_

Aloud, he said to her, "Sorry Rose. I'm so sorry, but I can't allow you to leave here."

Before she could protest, he aimed his sonic screwdriver at her and as she heard the musical jingling sound, Rose collapsed on the sofa. Daniel gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Sleep well, luv. I promise I'll explain everything later," he said as he exited the room. Walking out of the building toward his car, the human Time Lord placed an urgent call.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hello?" Jack greeted. When he heard Daniel's voice on the line, the U.N.I.T. commander said, "Danny boy! How're things?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Meet me at this location, Jack," the human Doctor commanded. "It's _important._" He gave the Commander the address.

"That bad, huh?" Jack's voice teased. "I'll be there. Is there any equipment we need? Guns, perhaps? Soldiers? Iodine for any walking wounded?"

Daniel said urgently, "No, just be there! This may concern you too."

"You've got it," the military leader's voice responded. Jack hung up and drove to the Crofton Zeppelin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Donna exited her car at Sheepshead Park, checking that her gun was fully loaded. She willed herself not to give anything away as she approached Sullivan. The diminutive man was sitting at a concrete table playing a game which looked like chess. His face showed no emotion when he looked up, his green eyes studying her.

"Donna," he said, "right on time, I see."

"Yes," she said just as calmly. "I believe in being punctual, especially given the circumstances."

"What circumstances are those?" Sullivan asked, suspicious. His eyes narrowed.

Donna hastened to assure him lest he suspect anything. "Nothing," she said. "I just meant that it seemed urgent given the tone of your voice the last time we spoke."

Sullivan relaxed visibly. "I see," he replied calmly. He rose from the cement table.

"The time for you to make your mark has come," he told her. Donna tried to look eager, though inwardly, she was repulsed. She wanted to end this business and get to her husband with all due speed.

"What is it you wish me to do?" She wondered aloud. Sullivan turned away, walking toward his conveyance. Before he made a sound, Donna cocked her gun. A sound like a whine pierced the air.

The red haired woman tried to fire her weapon, but she found that the bullet seemed to be frozen inside the chamber. Donna clicked and clicked but to no avail.

Sullivan turned around, showing her his weapon. "I wish for you to provide an example to the others about what happens to little girls who play with dangerous toys," he said before firing his weapon. In a matter of moments, everything went black.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack made his way to the Crofton Zeppelin on the far side of London. He boarded the massive ship and scanned his ticket into the virtual t-taker. He entered a room which was bathed in white, with several square dining tables built for four all packed next to each other. Daniel sat by the kitchen on the left side. Jack could tell that they were all alone. Apparently the scientist had rented the whole ship for however much time they had to talk.

Jack swaggered over to Daniel's table, saying, "Never let it be said that you don't have some pounds stashed away! And here I thought you didn't have two pence to rub together!" The U.N.I.T. Commander sat down across from his friend.

Daniel responded, "Phoned in a favor. Pete rented this, not me. We have a whole hour to talk, if need be." He pulled a wooden chair closer to where Jack sat.

"Why all the mystery?" Jack wanted to know. He was intrigued, despite himself.

"Because I don't know who's been compromised, an' who hasn't," the human Doctor said. This Zeppelin isn't due to take off for two more days. Figured no one would look on here. Who would use it?"

Jack nodded in agreement. "Tell me what this is all about," he said. Daniel pulled out his sheet of paper with the code on it.

"This mean something, that's for sure," he began, thinking _why can't I see what they mean?_

Daniel's friend studied them, then he looked up at the cloned half Gallifreyan. "Clues about the temporal bombs, perhaps?" Jack asked.

"Maybe," Daniel told him. He pulled out the newspaper he'd brought with him. Jack took it and read the article by Jane Smith. He glanced at the letters.

"What a coincidence," Jack noted. "Two of the letters mirror her initials."

Daniel grabbed the paper, saying, "let me see!" After he wrote her name on a notepad, his brown eyes also looked at the headline and the writing more carefully.

"Jack, this disturbance...when did the U.N.I.T. scientists say it happened?" He asked.

"At 1:07PM," Jack reported. Daniel nodded, pointing to the paper.

"But this states that the disturbance, a tsunami, happened at 1PM," Daniel said. "Now, how can that tidal wave have hit South America seven minutes _before _according to Miss Smith?" Jack was at a loss.

"I've gone through some of the other headlines, an' it seems like all of them were reported earlier than they were supposed to have occurred, _and _they were all written by Miss Jane Smith!" Daniel exclaimed.

"It could have been an error on her part," he said.

"On each an' every article?" Daniel asked, shaking his head. "No, no, there's something to this!" He scratched his head while Jack thumped a spoon inside of his palm. After a moment, the human Doctor had written the other numbers and initials separately on his notepad. He passed the information over to Jack. As he studied what Daniel had written, Jack's brows drew together with confusion.

"Wish I knew what you were doing, Danny," Jack commented. "It sure looks Greek to me!"

Daniel bolted from the chair, exclaiming, "Jack! I could kiss you! Do you know what you've done?"

"No, what?" the U.N.I.T. leader asked.

"Solved the case, or at least part of it!" His friend shouted. Both felt a slight shaking before Daniel started pacing.

"Those letters aren't random letters! And, the numbers aren't actually numbers, either!" he asserted. Jack looked perplexed. The human Time Lord continued pacing.

"'JS', for example, stands for Jane Smith," Daniel said, holding up the paper, "and there's a 'PY' on this list. Wasn't there a Professor P. Ykranos who provided some data about the incident in Tempura, California?"

"Okay…" Jack said haltingly. "So, what about the numbers?"

Daniel excitedly pointed to his notes again. "They are conversions of the letters of the alphabet into Roman numerals, you see?" he queried. "I got the idea just now when you talked about this being Greek to you! See, the number 500 corresponds to the letter 'D' in the English alphabet…or rather, the Arabic, really, an' the 1000 stands for 'M', the 'L' is what the '50' is, understand?"

"I'm mystified," Jack said. "I mean, even if that's true, what do they mean?" He pointed to the letters D.S.M. that Daniel had written.

"Worked that out, too!" the cloned Doctor cried. "These are initials, some of which like that one, are inverted. D.S.M. doesn't mean anything, but if you put the 'M' in front of the 'S' so that you have D.M.S…."

Jack said, "That _does_ sound familiar." He tapped the spoon against his fingers, willing himself to think. He got up and paced in the opposite direction. After a moment, he said, "Now I remember! Her name was Officer Dorothy McShane! She was the one who was aiding our scientists in their investigation when they disappeared in Anchorage, Alaska."

Daniel paced faster. "Just like 'Jane Smith' and 'Lee Chang' are names in connection with the bombs. No wonder I didn't see this before! It was too _easy!"_

"What about the letters encased in gold?" Jack wondered.

Daniel wrote the R, M and T at least twice more. Once he finished, he looked up at Jack in horror.

"What is it?" Jack asked. His eyes followed Daniel's. They were glued to the window.

"What's going on?" The Army Commander queried, whipping out a gun. He went to the windows on the side of the Zeppelin and exclaimed, "Look!"

Human Time Lord and U.N.I.T. leader saw clouds as their flying machine rose higher and higher without any sign of stopping. Daniel sprang into action. He took his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and went toward the engine room. Jack went to the cockpit and found to his disgust that there were no pilots aboard.

Daniel scanned the controls, then saw the trajectory that had been set. "Space," He muttered. Jack joined him moments later.

"There's no pilots on this thing!" Jack exclaimed.

Daniel's eyes grew wider. "An' this is headed toward space! We'll freeze out there!" He confirmed.

"If we don't suffocate here first," Jack said. "There's not enough air in here to last us a trip into space!" Both the partial alien and the human scrambled to find a way to land the Zeppelin before disaster stuck.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

On the ground, Sullivan looked at the latest puppet on his string. The red haired young woman flung the severed ropes that had been holding the Zeppelin securely to the ground away and dialed in some more instructions into the auxiliary computer on board it. When she was finished, she faced Sullivan with a triumphant grin on her face. Her blue Zeppelin Tours uniform revealed that she was A. Pond. Sullivan held up his long, cylindrical device.

"Very good, Amelia," he said. "Now to the other business at hand."

"Which business is that?" she asked. Sullivan came closer. His eyes fell on the unconscious body of Donna Noble which lay at his side.

"Destroy her, would you?" he asked sweetly. Amy's brown eyes glazed over. She loved making Sullivan happy. Nodding eagerly, she started to grab one of the discarded ropes, but Sullivan turned a dial on his device.

"Use this," he commanded. Like a pet wanting to please her master, Amy took Sullivan's weapon in her hands.

"That's a good girl," he said as he waited for her to finish carrying out his instructions.


	11. Chapter 11

THE RETURN, CHAPTER ELEVEN

**A/N: Not much of one, I'm afraid, except to say that the parts are starting to come together for the good guys, but the bad guys are also gaining ground. **

**This chapter pretty much picks up from the end of the last one.**

**Thanks to those who have alerted me and tried to stick with this story. It DOES take me awhile, but I do update eventually. Anyway, thanks so much to those who gave this story their attention, and Happy Holidays.**

XXXXXXXXXXX

_Previously: Sullivan came closer. His eyes fell on the unconscious body of Donna Noble which lay at his side._

_"Destroy her, would you?" he asked sweetly. Amy's brown eyes glazed over. She loved making Sullivan happy. Nodding eagerly, she started to grab one of the discarded ropes, but Sullivan turned a dial on his device._

_"Use this," he commanded. Like a pet wanting to please her master, Amy took Sullivan's weapon in her hands._

_"That's a good girl," he said as he waited for her to finish carrying out his instructions._

Amy held the weapon close to Donna's head, preparing to activate the switch. Donna's eyes blinked rapidly, then blinked again. They gazed upward and saw a flash of a pen like instrument descending. Her hand reached up and grabbed Amy's arm before she could fire. Donna bit Amy on her right knee, hard, causing her to drop the weapon. The younger red headed woman growled, then stumbled away, clutching her knee, desperate to get the device so that she could kill Sullivan's intended target.

Donna, however, tackled Amy to the ground, clutching at her to prevent her from grabbing the weapon. Muttering a curse to himself, Sullivan saw the older woman grab the instrument and turn the dial so that it would be inoperative.

_That __technology __isn__'__t __available __in __this __universe __on __this __Earth__…_Sullivan thought. _So,__how __did __she__…__?_

His quick mind came up with the only explanation. Donna Noble must have gotten her knowledge from another who was just like he was. If that was true, his plans could be upset greatly. Sullivan's rage reached an epic proportion just then. His eyes flicked to the two women fighting, and then he smiled.

If she knew the knowledge of his greatest enemy, then she knew something about his plans. If she knew all about his plans, then she had to have inside information about where he was, and if he needed her as his pawn, then perhaps she was more valuable alive.

"Enough," he said softly, his one word command ringing out clearly to Amy's ears. She ceased what she had been doing. Sullivan walked toward the younger woman and, while Donna was getting herself together as she breathed hard, the Melancholy Leprechaun gestured for Amy to come to him. When she did, he whispered something to her. Amy left, looking as normal as she could be, but at the same time not looking back at the pair. By the time she'd crossed the street, Sullivan turned to Donna, but she was running back to her car.

"Damn…" he said, going in the opposite direction to his ship, which was behind a thick forest of trees.

"C'mon, old thing," Sullivan requested, "give me what I need." The ship lifted the viewing screen, reporting, "Donna Noble spotted."

He viewed Donna through his screen; then, as she burned rubber to return to her inamorato, Sullivan activated his laser and fired. Donna's dark brown eyes widened when she saw the laser blasting too close for comfort, just narrowly missing her engine. She drove faster, determined to put some distance from Sullivan and his ship. He merely touched a button, turning on the ship's main power drive and it materialized in the air, like a hovering plane.

Donna swerved to and fro, making it harder for Sullivan's ship as it swung back and forth in its attempt to match her exact moves and then fire on her car. For a moment, Sullivan's ship stopped in mid-air. Donna kept staring at the road ahead until, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the laser seemingly disappear.

A second later, after checking to see that there were no other weapons which the ship was aiming at her, Donna breathed a sigh of relief. She could hardly wait to see her husband. Donna was about to turn down the road she used to go home when there was a beam of light all around her.

_Oh,__my__…_Donna didn't have time to finish that line as she materialized inside of a bright room not unlike that of her husband's ship. The only difference was that this one was bathed in a golden glow.

From the door to his right, Sullivan walked up to her and said in a mocking voice, "Miss Noble…welcome to my humble digs. You'd better get used to this. You, and my special guest once she arrives, will be here for quite some time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Inside the Crofton Zeppelin, the human Doctor and Jack tried every computer sequence possible. The machines kept blinking but then stopped calculating. The dirigible kept climbing higher and higher, keeping its deadly destination in its programming.

"We've got to find a way to stop it, or at least slow it down!" Jack shouted.

"Tell me something I don't know!" Daniel responded.

He kept keying in different sequences to override the main data, but each time he thought he had the correct code, he was blocked. Completely baffled, the cloned Time Lord repeated his findings to Jack.

"It's almost as if someone else is counteracting it," Daniel told the U.N.I.T. commander. "If so, there won't be any way we can stop this!"

Jack began to rub his hands together as they both felt the temperature going down. "At the very least, we should try the thermal valve!" He said. Using the sonic screwdriver, Daniel managed to activate the heater's controls in the main cockpit room.

"We'll need the rest of the ship's power to get us back home!" he said. "Rest of the ship's going to be colder than a winter on Ardana Six!"

Jack nodded. He remembered Daniel's story about that planet which was in the next galaxy over. It was dark and never had much light. The end result was that the temperature rivaled that of outer space.

"There's one thing I can do while you keep trying to reprogram the computer," Jack told the cloned Doctor. "I'll go into the communications room. I've been trained in the operation of the communications sequences on zeppelins! We can't have drifted too far into space despite the temperature change! Maybe we can reach someone on the surface and see if they can stop whatever it is that's blocking the signal!"

Daniel said, "Right!" Jack stormed into the room, checking behind him to make sure his friend wasn't following. When he knew he was alone, he took out a crystal object resembling the jewel he knew Martha Jones had.

"Now," Jack said, "to the surface." His fingers touched the crystal at two points on either side. It started to glow and hum, rising into the air.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Martha called her fiancé Bill Davis at the five star restaurant where the chef worked.

"Hello?" Bill's Northern British came through the line.

"'ello, hon," Martha said. She hoped her love for him was projected over the distance instead of her concerns about Daniel and Liam Sullivan.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

As he prepared the chicken for the clients he was working for, Bill's face was worried. Martha didn't sound like her usually cheerful self, and he didn't like hearing her when she was that way. He supposed it was work. His fiancé sometimes tended to let it overrun her life. Bill didn't know what Torchwood did, but sometimes he thought that Martha would be better off if she had a _normal_job, one that she could actually share with Bill when she came home to their flat.

But Martha was an exceptional scientist, and there wasn't much call for aeronautic or temporal theorists, like she was. He knew that she would become quite the nutter if she had to do domestic work like he did. She was actually a great cook, but Martha had told him time and again that she didn't want to be a chef for a living. Next to him, test tubes were her passion, and time and all of its mysteries, her love interest.

"You've got the worried sound, luv," Bill told her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the lab, Martha removed her white coat and slipped on a pair of high heeled black shoes.

"Yeah, I know," she said. "It's just that, well, my work colleague told me some disturbing information about an informant we've been dealing with. Seems he can't be trusted."

Bill frowned, his voice saying, "Sweets, I don't think you should be hangin' round that other worker of yours. He always stirs up trouble, like the proverbial angry bee, and one day, you'll get stung."

"I'm fine, really, hon," Martha tried assuring her man. "Daniel's harmless. He was just tellin' me about Liam Sullivan, that's all."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bill rubbed the chicken with the spices he'd drenched his gloved hands with. After placing the fowl in the baking pan and basting it, he put the chicken in to cook and slammed the oven door none too gently.

"Who?" Bill wanted to know. "Is tha' a coworker?"

"No," Martha's voice said. "He's the informant who's supplying us information about, well, classified material. Seems he's got the data about the things that have been happening." She poured over the list of names Daniel had written of persons involved in the temporal phenomena that were happening globally, and then, she paused.

He set the oven to 450 degrees and waited as he said, "I suppose I should be grateful."

"What?" Martha's voice asked, not hearing Bill's comment.

Bill repeated his statement, adding, "I suppose I should be grateful that you shared the name of some of your informants. You never do, otherwise." He frowned, as he asked, "what's got your knickers in a twist, eh?"

Martha's voice responded, "I promise, I'll tell you when I can."

Bill turned off the flame under his boiling potatoes. "I know you will, luv," he said. "You always do." Beside him, the egg timer rang.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Martha said, "Yeah, and thanks. I have to go. I love you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bill surveyed his culinary masterpiece and checked everything before starting to see to the other dishes he'd prepared.

"Love you," he said. "Take care, and be cautious among the wolves out there."

Martha's voice said, "I will. Bye." She hung up, then studied the list more closely.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Martha punched in Daniel's cell phone code. She got a blocked signal. "Damn!" She swore. "Must be out of range." She was about to try to boost the signal when a sight greeted her out of the corner of her eye. Martha turned to see the crystal, glowing and pulsating. She came closer, entranced by its purple glow, and then, she found she couldn't take her eyes off of it.

A moment later, as the warmth in her eyes was replaced by a calm, yet cold expression, Martha murmured, "Yes, I understand." She walked out of the lab and toward the elevators leading to the garage.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose lay slumbering in the spot Daniel had left her in when she heard a noise. It was not a plea for help; rather, it was a ringing noise. She pulled out her cell phone a moment later and saw Liam Sullivan's number. There was a text message below, which read, _Rose, __I __need __2 __see __U. __Urgent._

Typing furiously, Rose capitalized her letters, showing her distaste toward the informant. _Dunno __why __Ur __trying __2 __break __up __D __and __me._

Sullivan's message read as a heartfelt plea. _Please,_it stated, _must __C __U ! __Why __did __U __brk __our __appt.?_

_Had __2 __C __my __beau, _Rose typed.

Sullivan was getting angrier by the minute. Rose was slipping from the noose that he'd so carefully constructed. Although he had many others under his control, Rose was the key. He had to try harder.

_I __have __info .__Concerning __Ur __beau ,_he responded. _I __will __provide __U __with __it __if __U __meet __me __at __76 __Trafalger __Lane._

Rose sighed. She knew she'd have no peace unless she saw Sullivan one last time. She switched to vocal communications. "76 you say?" Rose asked. "All right, but this is the last time."

"Of course," Sullivan's warm Irish baritone washed over her. He hung up first, allowing himself a manic grin.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Martha drove over to the airfield where the communication center was. It was small in comparison to the massive hangars where the Zeppelins were kept. She parked the car in the lot nearby, then started for the door.

"Hey!" a voice rang out. Martha turned to see a security guard running toward her. "You can't come through here! Only authorized personnel may be here!"

Her dark eyes projected confusion as she asked, "Where is 'here'? I seem to be lost."

The guard humored her with a smile as he thought, _these __Sunday __driver __types! __Always __gettin__' __lost! __Enough __to __turn __me __into __a __nutter!_

Aloud, he responded, "You're at the Zeppelin airfield for Crofton/Zimmie." He pointed straight ahead, away from the communications hangar as he faced West. "Go out that gate, turn left at the crossroads. Got that?"

A second later, he tumbled like a ton of bricks, unconscious from the blow to the back of his head. Behind him, Martha held up the crystal as she said, "Got it." She snatched the keys off of his belt and said, "Thanks for the help."

Letting herself inside the mini hangar, Martha ran over to the communications console and, her eyes glowing, turned on the machine to access the Crofton Zeppelin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Zeppelin had just broken the boundaries of Earth's atmosphere. Daniel programmed several sequences into the computer…and was finally rewarded with the slowing down of the deadly dirigible.

"Now _tha__'__s _what I call service in a nick of time!" He said, pausing to enter the sequence that would return himself and Jack to Earth. Daniel was about to complete the last sequence of numbers when something caught his eye.

"No, it _can__'__t _be!" He exclaimed. Daniel typed in another sequence…and looked shocked when he discovered the point of origin of the message.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the communications room, Jack beamed a grin of superiority. Martha would do great things for him, and more importantly, against his foe. He supposed he should release her from his machinations…for now.

"Martha," he ordered softly, "go back to your meaningless task, and forget this place."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On the surface, Martha returned to her car, putting as much distance between herself and the Crofton Zeppelin as much as possible.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Inside Sullivan's ship, Donna shouted, "You madman! You're off your trolley if you think I'll spend the rest of my life here!" She hit the walls of her prison, seeing an unconcerned Sullivan.

"Oh, I do wish you would go on," Sullivan told her in a tired voice, "until you exhaust yourself."

Donna pulled out her Ace, stating confidently, "My Harry will rescue me!" Her triumphant grin vanished when she saw Sullivan's reaction. He had a fiendish gleam in his green orbs. The titian haired woman raised her hand to her lips when she realized she'd uttered her beloved's name and, thusly, had given his existence away.

Gripping her cheek, Sullivan said coldly, "Ahh…so he _is_here! I thought I'd sensed him when he came." He savagely let go of her cheek snarling, "He will rescue you, you say? M'dear, I'm absolutely _depending _on that!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Zeppelin kept falling at a moderate speed toward Earth. Jack placed the crystal, which had stopped glowing, in his pocket. He was about to join Daniel when he heard his voice.

"I knew it was you…" the human Time Lord accused. "Wha' is it the Earthers say? 'It takes one to know one.'"


	12. Chapter 12

THE RETURN

CHAPTER TWELVE

**A/N: The true persona behind Sullivan is revealed, and Jack and the Human Doctor have words in this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own any publicly recognizable characters or song lyrics. They are the property of B. Joel, the BBC, and any other partners or subsidiaries, and no money has been made off of their use.**

_Previously: The Zeppelin kept falling at a moderate speed toward Earth. Jack placed the crystal, which had stopped glowing, in his pocket. He was about to join Daniel when he heard his voice._

"_I knew it was you…" the human Time Lord accused. "Wha' is it the Earthers say? 'It takes one to know one.'"_

Jack stared at Daniel; his look giving nothing away. The human Time Lord's finger found him, and he said in an accusatory voice, "I know you're behind this! Admit it. That bloody crystal from our home world proves it."

Jack's only response was to raise a brow. Daniel said, "How'd you do it, eh? I, or rather my Other, left you for dead before. You were a pile of ashes, if one remembers correctly."

The one Daniel blamed fixed him with a superior gaze, his mask of jovialness very much diminished. "Never leave loose ends untied, _old friend_," Jack said, his tone mocking. He suddenly wore a smirk that was not like the one wise guy Jack frequently sported.

Daniel's eyes widened as he knew exactly what his former friend meant. "The Dro'ma'sos?" He started pacing, continuing his tirade. Daniel questioned, "How'd they manage it? How'd they get you to be here? And, how many are here?"

"How many..._what?_" "Jack" asked slowly.

"Who followed you here through the void?!" Daniel shouted, his tone quite determined. He stopped pacing. "'Know wha'? Doesn't matter, because you won't get away with the temporal time bombs you've created!"

The commander returned, "You've got some nerve, accusing me and my followers of initiating this mess that this precious planet of yours has gotten itself into! What is it that Earth person Billy Joel said? 'We didn't start the fire.'" He kicked his legs in a jiggery dance and sang in a surprisingly good baritone,"'it was always burning since the world's been turning'!"

_Barmy bugger! _Daniel thought. Pointing accusingly at the other man, he ordered, "You'll stop whatever you're doin' and put things right again in my universe!"

Jack stopped dancing and crossed his arms, saying defiantly, "Really?! _Your _universe? What are you, two timing the other Earth?"

Daniel fell silent. He would not let this fellow Gallifreyan "get his goat," as the Earthers said.

"Jack" wasn't done with his taunting. "Why don't you think about who's _really_ behind this rather than accusing me?" He leaned in closer to Daniel, tapping his adversary on the noggin as he shouted, "Use that fur covered, miniscule thing you laughingly call a _brain! _If you do, you'll find out that I am innocent!"

Incensed, Daniel was about to smack him when Jack said, "Oh, go ahead!" Undoing his U.N.I.T. uniform, he pointed to his chest. "Go on! Take a poke!" he jeered, thrusting his chin out at Daniel. "But be careful, mate, that you don't hit something _vital _with your pent up strength!"

He drew back. Daniel made a fist in frustration as he walked away. "Yeah, you've got it…as long as I'm in here, you can't do anything that would hurt ol' Jackie boy, i'n' that right?"

He drew closer again to the scientist and whispered, "After all this time, I've finally won the last round."

Daniel grabbed his arm and squeezed, saying in a deadly, low voice, "You may have won this temporary victory but the war isn't over, Koschei." His chocolate eyes fixed the one in Jack's body with a deadly glare as he told him, "I'll give you three seconds to tell me what's goin' on and to vacate Jack's body. If you don't, I'll do whatever I have to to force you out of there."

Jack merely ho hummed in Daniel's face. "This is getting old," he said. "Change the mpx.3, _closnast!" _Daniel could stand no more when he heard "Jack's" derogatory term denoting a dim witted half breed. He snaked his arm around "Jack's" neck, enveloping him in a choke hold. He coughed, but stomped on Daniel's foot, causing the other man to grab it, hopping up and down.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

While Daniel and Jack fought, Sullivan commanded his ship. "Isolate Rose," he said. "I wish to know where she is."

The screen focused on what looked like an eating place. Sullivan's eyes were peeled for any sign of her. As the screen ran through various locations, revealing diners of all ages, shapes and sizes, he said angrily, "That is _not _where she is! Where is the child? I must _know_!"

"Sufficient time is required to locate the human female's bio signature in so tight a space," the ship reported. "It would not be advisable to get angry."

Sullivan knew his device was correct. He willed himself back to normal, asking that the ship contact him as soon as she knew where the Tyler child was. _Or maybe_...he told himself, _there is another way._

"You're sure she's here somewhere," he wanted to confirm.

"Yes," his ship reported without hesitation.

Sullivan closed his eyes, saying with a smile, "Then maybe the mountain should come to Mohammed."

He concentrated on Rose: her smile, her walk, her strawberry-and-sweat smell with a touch of chips that often permeated her togs. He remembered the times they had been together, and for a moment, thought about the course of action he had to take. Would she appreciate the magnitude of what he had to do, the generosity? Probably not. She _was _a primate, after all. But she could learn, he told himself; she _would _learn, with him teaching her.

And if she didn't, well...he'd lost friends and allies before. What was one more in a sea of a hundred, or a thousand? What was another life scattered to the wind? He would do what he always did: go on without her. After all, he'd outlived his bond mate, River. He would do the same with Rose, unless he changed her.

He called to her, willing her to come to where he was. "Rose..." he whispered softly. His thoughts louder, he called, _"ROSE."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose slowly opened one eye, and then, the other. She yawned tiredly, spent and wondering where she was. She glanced around and saw that she was on a green couch (sort of). Sitting up, Rose stretched, her arms extending so she could touch her feet.

She wondered where Daniel was and pulled out her cell phone to ring him when she heard a soft, small voice in her head. _Rose…_it said; then, louder, "_ROSE! Come to me…come to me, my Rose." _

Rose hesitated for a moment. What was Sullivan doing here? She got up from the couch and looked around. "Sullivan?" She queried. "You're nearby?" Rose looked around but didn't see anyone. She heard the voice again.

"_Yes, Rose, I am here. Come." _Rose could not resist the sound of his voice. Nothing else mattered but that she obey it. Walking to the entrance to the cafeteria, she left through the swinging doors.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The Master pinned Daniel to the floor of the Zeppelin in a Martian tackle. "Listen, you idiot!" He snapped to the human Doctor. Daniel thrashed as much as he was able from underneath him. He then changed his fighting, flinging the Master off of him. Koschei recovered quickly, but he knew his strength wouldn't last inside Harkness' inferior body. The evil, now half human Time Lord knew he had to take out the cloned one fast if he was to gain the upper hand, or he had to talk him down.

Trying again, the Master said, "Thing about it! If I were behind this…coup, wouldn't I just simply take over the minds of everyone on the planet, not just _some_ of these apes you have endeared yourself to?" Daniel punched at his face, but Koschei ducked.

Angrily, Daniel screamed, "_Liar_!"

He swung his fist at "Jack", his hand barely missing the other Time Lord's nether region. "Tell me something, _old friend! _If you're right, then how did the Zeppelin get back to Earth, eh? Unless you got someone on the surface to aid you? You used your old hypnotic tricks on your victim then you tried to convince me that you just _happened _to work out our return trip home? How'd you do that, hmm?"

"How'd you suss things out?" "Jack" asked Daniel.

"I saw the message you filtered using the communications band, and, I'll wager, some form of Gallifreyan technology that you managed to somehow gain access to! The message was sent using symbols native to _our _world…something that could easily be disguised if anyone ever tried to ascertain wha' it said!"

Using some fancy footwork, and taking deep breaths, the Master said, "I do not lie this time! You are so wrapped up in your own taste for revenge that you don't see things clearly!"

As he paused to catch his breath, Daniel considered the Master's words. He was, in the fellow Time Lord's opinion, the greatest liar of all time and space, Gallifrey's Loki to the tenth power. The human Time Lord admitted to himself that the Master could have a point. If he _did _wish to enslave this version of Earth, why hadn't he made a grand gesture? The evil, psychotic Time Lord could be subtle, but eventually, he culminated his plans on a huge scale.

The Master also would have used the drums as a calling card. But the echoes preying upon Daniel's mind as he wrapped the clues around his head seemed to come from another direction…a direction somehow more…personal.Familiar_. Like traces of himself!_

He then thought about the people involved: Miss Jane Smith, with her articles; Officer MacShane, in Alaska; Professor Ykranos in the disturbance in California; the incidents in China, London, and other places around the world. All the people…all alternate universe versions of companions who'd travelled with him for a time. Daniel's eyes blinked comprehendingly, and then widened in horror. He turned to "Jack".

"Where's Rose?" He wondered aloud. The Master smirked.

"Don't you know?" He teased. "Really, Doctor. You _should_ keep better control of your pets!"

Daniel turned furious eyes on him as he snapped, "She's no' a _pet, _you diseased growth! Rose is very near, and dear to me, an' just because I've figured out who's behind this manipulation of this Earth doesn't let you off the hook!"

The Master jeered, "Oh? What have _I _to do with any of this?"

Thrusting his finger at his enemy, Daniel said, "You took over Jack's body and mind! Not sure how, but I'll find out later." His voice crept down to a whisper as he fixated on his love. Not able to feel her, he said, "He may have seized total control over Rose this very minute!"

The Master affected an unconcerned expression and put his hands behind his head, asking in a bored voice, "So?" He sank down on a large chair inside the cockpit of the grounded Zeppelin.

"So…" Daniel suggested, "if he takes over one of your followers, he'll find out where you are!"

"What do you think a complete Time Lord, once a beacon of light, who's now dark, completely corrupt, and who obviously wants the destruction of every man, woman and child on this planet will do with a fellow Gallifreyan who's inside of a human body?" Daniel asked, an almost smug look in his brown eyes. The Master sat up then, his face going rigid. He thought about what his enemy would do when the other Time Lord found out not only where he was, but the fact that he was inside Jack's body.

If he was taking over companions to the Doctor, what would the madman do with a prize like Jack Harkness?

"You _have _got a point," he said wryly.

"Besides, we still don't know why he's doing it to my friends on this Earth. Why not take over the other one that he's more directly tied to?" Daniel mused.

"Maybe, like me, he's trapped here, in this universe?" the Master suggested, finally putting his superior mind to the problem.

Daniel put his fingers to his cheek thoughtfully, saying, "Mmmm…could be, but I really think there's another, more fundamental reason."

"I suggest we find him before he obliterates us," "Jack" said determinedly. Both left the Zeppelin and headed for the UNIT commander's car.

As the Master started the engine, Daniel said, "Rose is the key. It was her initials, the R. M. T. in the bold letters which stood out the most."

"I thought he'd be more concerned with a bonds mate," "Jack" responded, crossing to the main highway. "That is, assuming he got married again." He sped up and went onto the main highway. "Is the human child Rose his mate?"

Daniel said. "Nope. Her name was River Song. It's a long story. He wants Rose because she's the catalyst. Made him love again. He blames her for being the first companion he'd had deeper feelings for in over 500 years! His ego, once he'd turned to evil, couldn't handle that!"

The Master switched lanes at top speed, running through a red light. "You know, you whip around like you're hosed!" Daniel commented. "Like the same way you pilot your T.A.R.D.I.S!"

"You should talk!" "Jack" retorted. "You never circumnavigated a proper temporal curve in your misspent lives!" He made a left onto a shorter block with no traffic. "Where are we headed, anyway?"

"Where his trouble started, long ago," Daniel replied, providing the Master with an address.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose pulled up to 76 Trafalgar Lane and turned off her engine. She walked toward the back of the grove after parking the car, her eyes still looking vacant. The familiar humming sound failed to register in her blank mind.

As the door opened, she walked into a hallway bathed in light. Chained to a round platform with several dials, a titian haired woman yelled, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

Rose walked past her, oblivious to her angry words as she said, "Doesn't matter who you are! Help me! This guy's off his trolley, I'm telling you!" The door swung open for Rose, who passed through without another concern.

The other woman swung in her direction, shouting, "Hey! Come back, you berk!" But, Rose kept going.

Presently, the Torchwood director stopped in a large room. As her mind cleared, Rose stared all around her. She could have sworn she heard Sullivan's voice. Hadn't she sleeping near the cafeteria? She looked down at her watch, but it seemed like time had stopped.

"Rhy'an'a…" she heard her love's voice clearly in her mind. "Daniel?" Rose called.

Spying several roundels, Rose could tell that she was in a T.A.R.D.I.S. But whose ship was it? Did Daniel finally get his up and running, she wondered? He'd said it would take several years to grow one. Had he managed to grow a ship during the year they'd been together?

If it was his ship, why wasn't he here to greet her? She searched for him, wandering several corridors. Rose tried banking down a sudden case of uneasiness that welled up inside of her. Rose struggled to remember the last couple of hours. Was she all alone here? Hadn't she heard another voice, a woman's voice?

She was about to call for her Doctor again when she got a good look at the room she was in. There was no furniture in it, just lights that shined from every angle. The walls, a golden yellow, had pictures. She counted twelve, in all.

Each was labeled with concentric squares, triangles, and circles. The first one was of an old man in Edwardian dress; the second, of a man in a hobo costume, like something out of a Charlie Chaplin movie her Mum sometimes watched. The third one was of a white haired gentleman in Opera togs. Picture number four showed a man with curly hair and the longest, multicolored scarf she'd ever seen.

The fifth was of a Cricketer (at least, she thought he was,) young and smiling; the sixth had a fatter looking man, with a coat of many colors; the seventh revealed a dark haired man with a sweater that had a blue border and question marks. The eighth picture showed a man with a long, oval face and ginger curls. He reminded her of the poet Byron.

But, it was the last three that made her pause. In them, she saw the first Doctor she'd known, with his battered leather jacket, red jumper and close cropped hair; then, in the picture next to that one, she saw the second Doctor, her favorite one that her human Time Lord most closely resembled. The next to the last picture was of one she'd met briefly: a Doctor with hair parted on one side and a bow tie, wearing a tweed jacket.

The last portrait was one she knew well. It was Sullivan's.

"Doctor…" she breathed. "He's returned."

From behind her, a familiar Irish voice said, "No, Rose, I haven't. I'm not 'the Doctor', anymore." She turned to see Sullivan, strolling in with ornate, richly decorated robes with a high, red collar and golden symbols.

His rich, Irish sounding baritone said, "You may call me 'the Valeyard.'"

His green eyes showed her something she never thought she'd see on her first love's face: contempt.


End file.
